Jasper County Democrat, Volume 13, Number 75, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 31 December 1910 — THE BRIDGE FIGHT. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE BRIDGE FIGHT.

A Quarrel Between Two Ends of a Town.

By WILLIAM ALFRED COREY.

{Copyright, iSIO. by American Press Association.] “I tell ye Dick's, not been bought off! It’s a baseless slander that had better not be repeated in my bearin’?’ William Shapiro, representative farmer of the “north side,” was proud of his son Richard and religiously jealous of his honor.

“Well, neighbor,” said Hanson, putting his foot on the hub of Shapiro's wagon, “I’m only tellin’ ye what's bein’ whispered around. I don't want ye td think, neighbor, that I suspect Dick. Fer from it. But it’s onfortunate jest at this time, with the bond election only a week off an’ us a-try-in’ to git up a debate with them sidesteppin’ south siders. to have our best speaker disappear without a clear explanation. Ye really can’t blame people fer talkin’. An’ then he’s with

them lawyers an - politicians over there in Emporium, ye know, an’ it’s like one good tater in with a sack o’ rotten ones. What did Dick say any- j way?” “He simply said he was goin’ down j to St. Louis cu business fer the firm he’s studyin' law with.” “Well,” concluded Hanson, “sorry he can’t be here, to rip ’em up the back in that debate. Ye'll have to take Dick’s place, won’t ye, neighbor?” j “Reckon I will,” assented Shapiro, j with a complacent air—“that is, if we can git ’em in a corner an’-mak«4tm debate at all. I’m goin’ over to the south side today, an' I'm goin’ to make ’em show* their hand 'fore I git back. Can’t ye go 'long. Hanson, an’ back me up?” “Can’t today, Neighbor Shapiro, but hope ye’ll land ’em fer a debate, an’ I’ll be on band to yell fer our side,’* promised Hanson, looking after bis neighbor as the latter touched his lead mare with the whip and started on. “We’ll give ’em the best we’ve got in stock!” Shapiro-shouted back. In a half hour he arrived at the Walkarusa river, the stream which flowed from west to east, dividing Walkarusa county into two warring sections, a small but aggressive community on the north side, but with the bulk of the wealth and i>opulation on the south side. Farmer Shapiro stopped at the approach to the ferry and pulled the cord depending from the big bell suspended from an overhanging treetop.’ But the clangor of the bell, speeding across the turgid stream, attracted no attention on the other side. No ferryman showed himself. ' T, “Sleepin’ off la*st night’s drunk, like’s not,” the north side farmer muttered to himself disgustedly. Farmer Shapiro stood his tall form up in his wagon and tugged nervously at his gray brown beard as lie gazed across the river and then suddenly gave the signal bell cord another savage pull. This finally brought into view the slouching figure of a man. who leisurely shipped the anchor line, started the little gasoline engine and headed the ferryboat across the river. Passing the south side creamery two hours later, Shapiro met County Supervisors Wilkins and McHenry. “How about that debate, gents?” he queried. “Sjuppose ye got our challenge. 'We’re loaded fer bear an’ south side politicians, an’ we’re-anxious fer a go.” “Yes, we got the challenge,” admitted Wilkins, “but we’re shy of good speakers. Can’t seem to find anybody to take our side.” “Look here, Wilkins,” said Shapiro warmly, “if you fellers have got legitimate argyments agin that bridge the voters are entitled to hear ’em. An’ if ye ain’t they’re entitled to know that. Now, if the gum shoe method's yer game we’re goin’ to smoke ye out. It’s either debate ,er publicity of another kind. Either ye’ll debate with us in the open er we’il post the fact that ye didn’t dare to meet us all over the county. This is Monday. The election’s a week from termorrer. Plenty o’ time to make all arrangements an’ pull the debate off Saturday night. It’s up to you.”. “Keep cool, Shapiro.” said Supervisor Wilkins. “We’ve got nothin’ up our sleeves. If the voters o’ the south side-want to build a bridge fer the special benefit d’ the north side nobody's going to prevent ’em savin’ so next Tuesday week, an’ “Fer the benefit o’ the north side!” broke in Shapiro, getting red in the

face. "We uorili siders have been a-helpin’.” "Oh. well,” in turn interrupted Wilkins, “no use o’ any argyment now, Mr. Shapiro, an* if we can find a good speaker to”— # J “That puts me in mind,” interposed Supervisor McHenry, “that there’s a traveliu’ man over to Mrs. Williams' boardin’ bouse that told me this moruiu’ that he’d present our side u we wanted him to. He’s a-traveliu’ fer some trust company, examinin’ . applications fer loans, 1 believe. And they say he hails from Cherokee county an’ has been in the legislature from that County, so he ought to he a good speller." T “Good!” exclaimed Wilkins. ’*We*ll see him, Mr. Shapiro, an’ let ye knqw if arrangements can be made. Suppose yer sou Dick ’ll talk fer your side.” Shapiro told them of the impossibility ! of Dick’s appearance, for which he • was very sorry, and thaf. he bimselfwould have to represent the north siders. The north side farmer drove home much elated. “The debate's a-comiD* off.” he told Hanson. "They’re a-goin’ ■ to git sojne traveliu’ feller that’s been so the legislater from Cherokee county to speak fer ’em. But I ain't afraid o’ him. He may be a glib talker an’ all that, but he hain't .got the argynieuts, an’ them’s what counts in a debate." o “Say, ain’t it a pity Dick ain't here?’ regretted Hanson. “He'd make a meal off that legislater feller." H "I ain’t «ure hut Dick ’ll turn up yet in time fer the exercises," said the elder Shapiro - hopefully, “but I’ll be loaded to the muzzle in case lie don’t.” The news of tlie proposed debate spread quickly, and appearances pointed to an enormous attendance. A canvas covered grand stand lighted by electricity was erected, benches provided and all details arranged. It was plain from the public interest In the event that the fate of the bridge bonds would lie largely influenced thereby. Saturday night came, but Dick, like one of Napoleon's generals yn a certain occasion, did not come. Something had detained him, and the responsibility of the coming debate was upon his father. The ferryman was kept busy that afternoon carrying north siders across the river. They were taking no chances. They, the whole population of them, went early to occur" front seats and shout for their side.

Farmer Shapiro, not to appear unfriendly, met his opponent to he, a smooth, professional looking hian with gray hair and heard, at his hotel, and arm in arm they walked down to the mass meeting when the hour arrived. The resolution to Ik* debated was. “Resolved, That l>onds in the amount of SIOO,OOO should he voted by Walkarusa eouuty for the building of a bridge across the Walkarusa river at the point known as Banning's crossing.” . William Shapiro* as the affirmative speaker made the opening address, his allotted time being forty-live minutes. He spoke with directness and force if not with rhetorical polish, re iting the facts that every north sid r knew l>y heart. The “south" had the railroad, the county,seat, the high school and nearly everything else desirable, toward all of Which the “north" had contributed in various ways, while the “north” had nothing. 3 * In asking for the bridge they were merely asking for what was their own by right. The speech was frequently interrupted by applause, and at the close the whole north side contingent arose and yelled in chorus for five minutes. “The distinguished gentleman from Cherokee will now address you." pompously announced the chairman, and amid deep silence the smooth, gray bearded stranger arose.

He spoke in a low voice and with ease, but without enthusiasm. He consumed twenty minutes of his time in generalities before coming to the matter at issue at ail. He praised the county, its soil, its people, its schools. He talked—merely talked—until an impatient south sid'er called out, “Waal how about the bridge bonds?” But the interruption only made the matters worse for the south side, 1 for the first “point” the “gentleman from Cherokee” made was that to build the bridge would deprive “a worthy poor man”—The ferryman—of his means of livc!!hood. This raised a howl of laughter from the north siders and disgusted the south side politicians, for every resident of the county knew Hiram Banning for a worthless drunkard. In vain the chairman called for order and admonished the meeting to give respectful attention to “the gentleman from Cherokee.” But the crowd from both north and south bad taken the measure of “the gentleman from Cherokee,” and, though the north siders were delighted, the whole mass meeting voted him a zero quam ttty as a speaker. He tried to flounder on for a few minutes, but soon sat down after occupying but thirty of his forty-five minutes. Shapiro then spoke during his closing twenty minutes, and the occasion became a north side demonstration and a very biting south side frost. The distinguished statesman from Cherokee did not come to the bat at all. for his closing speech, and the meeting adjourneed, the north siders going home triumphant. The following Tuesday, true to his promise, Dick Shapiro returned in time to vote for the bonds, which earned by a safe majority. And the next morning, calling bis fa!’ '-*r into his room sand opening a suit case. Dick showed bint a theatrical “makeup" and said: “Father, I am The distinguished gentleman from Cherokee.’ I did not mhke much of a-speech for the south side, but I let down the bars for you and the north side.”

“I AM THE DISTINGUISHED GENTLEMAN.”