The Syracuse Journal, Volume 1, Number 33, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 17 December 1908 — Page 6

wU| - —-?.»::zz:— General Grant’s Log Cabin. It was at White Haven, a farm of a thousand acres of hilly field and timber land owned by Frederick Dent, that General, then Lieutenant, Grant met Miss Julia Dent, the eldest daughter of the house, and won her heart. As the Dent family grew up, Mr. Dent allotted to each member in turn a tract of land from the original homestead and from two to three slaves; so, if they desired, each one had his or her own home to go to upon marriage, and house servants to do the work. It is of one of these homes that Mrs. Emma Dent Oasey—the last'W the Dents of White Haven—writes in the Associated Sunday Magazine, in the hope that she may be able to dispel the erroneous idea that the far-famed log cabin of General Grant was the mean, poor, makeshift affair that the public mind of to-day believes it to have been; Os course many saw this cabin at the World’s Fair, writes Mrs. Casey, and to my assertion many will-say “Bosh I We saw-.the cabin with our own eyes.” To them I will answer that a house unoccupied for many years is not a home, nereis it honielike; it is an empty shell, a body without a soul, a dead thing and unlovely. When Captain Grant resigned from the army, old Mr. Grant, his father, gave him a thousand dollars. With this he built and furnished a log house of five rooms on eighty acres of Hand, which my father had given Mrs. Grant ns a bridal present. The' house was built after a plan eonreived- by Mrs. Grant, and was fashioned and furnished with an eye to the artistic, and to the' end that it Was ‘ .both homelike and refined. Through the middle of the house ran a hall, on either side of which were the sitting-room and dining-room. Above these were three bedrooms, two of good size, and a small front room over a portion of the hallway lielow. The kitchen and servants’ -quarters were in cabins to the rear. . Long before Sister Julia's marriage to Captain Grant father gave her three slaves, who remained, of course, at White, Ila ven while she was there. Later, when Captain and Mrs, Grant were stationed at different army posts In the free States, these slaves were, left behind, for obvious reasons. With these three servants, two white horses, a wagon, a cow, and the log house on the eighty acres of land mentioned, the Grants began civilian life in Missouri. I do not doubt that there are .several Elderly men yet liviiig in St. Louis, or on the Gravoise. as the neighborhood where we lived wqs called, that remember the Willing hands they lent to the Grant “house-raising partyfor it was Bay sister’s wish, that inasmuch as her home was to be' of the old-fashioned Kind, it must and should be built in the old-fashioned way—log laid upon log by friendly hands. So after several busy days for colored Kitty and Mary tn the kitchen, and after a quantity of trees had been felled, the logs duly hewn, notched on the ends, and then Jragged to the proper site, the neighbors from the Gravoise were invited in . 10 the “raising;” and sooner than one jvould have expected, for all the feasting and merrymaking, the house was lone. Later, carpenters from St. Louis jut on the finishing touches, As I remember them, the window joshes opened outward from the middle. Each window contained two panes bf. glass separated by a strip of wood its broad as a man’s hand. This gave 1 pleasing .and harmonious effect, and was in perfect keeping with the Grant <og cabin. Besides the Grants’, there was yet mother home at White Haven. Father save my ’ brother Louis two hundred icres near the Grants’, and on this he milt, after his marriage, a brick house ind called it “Wish-ton-wish,” an Inlian name for the whippoorwill. For all the two examples in hometaming, the Grants called their place »y no particular name. They simply rpoke of it as “Home.” Negroes in the Army. “It is not necessary to revert to the dvil war to prove that American negroes are faithful, devoted wearers of iniforms,” once said a man who has teen service in both the army and the lavy. “There are at the present time our regiments of negro 'soldiers in the •egular army of the United States—wo outfits of cavalry and two of infantry. All four of these regiments »ave been under fire in important Indian campaigns, and there is yet to be recorded a single Instance of a man ’ m any of the four layouts showing the jvhite feather —and the two cavalry regiments of negroes have on several occasions, found themselves in very terious situations. While the fact is well known out on' the frontier, I don’t remember ever having Seen it mentioned in the east that an American Indian Has a deadly fear' of • an American negro. The most utterly reckless, dare-devil savage of the copper hue stands literally In awe of a negro, and the 1 blacker the negro the more the Indian quails. I can’t understand why this should be, for the Indians decline to give their reasons for fearing the black man —but the fact remains that even a very bad Indian will give the mildest mannered negro imaginable all

the room he wants, and to spare, as any old regular army soldier who has frontiened will tell you. The Indians, I fancy, attribute uncanny and eerie qualities to the blacks. “The Sioux will hand down to their children’s children the story of a charge that a couple of the negro cavalry troops madb during the Pine Ridge troubles. It was at the height of the fracas, and the bad Indians were regularly lined up for battle These two black troops were ordered to make the initial swoop upon them. You know the noise one black mail can make when he gets right down to the business of yelling. Well, these two troops of blacks-started their terrific whoop in unison when they were a mile away from the waiting Sioux, and they got warmed up and in better practice with every jump their horses made. I give you my solemn word that in the ears of us of the white outfit the yelps those two negro troops of cavalry gave sounded like the carnival whooping of 10,000 devils. The Sioux weren’t scared a little bit by the approaching, clouds of alkali dust,, but, all the same, when the two black troops were more than' a quarter of a mile away the Indians broke and rati as if the old boy himself were after them, and it was then an easy matter to round them up and disarm them. The chiefs afterward confessed that they were scared out by the. awful howling of the black soldiers. “Ever since the ’ war the United States Navy has had a fair representation of negro bluejackets, and they make first-class naval tars. There is not a ship in the navy to-day that hasn't from six to a dozen, anyhow, of negroes on its muster rolls.. The ' negro sailor's names very rarely get enrolled on the bad conduct lists. They are obedient, sober men and good seamen. There are many petty officers among them.” A Night Panic in Georgia. Ou the 4th of July, 1864, our regiment, the Twenty-seventh Indiana, had been marching and skirmishing with the enemy between Marietta, Ga„ and the Chattahoochie river. Night overtook us while we were passing through a piece of timber with a dense growth of brush tip to the edge of the road on either side.. .We were ordered to.stack our guns and lie in such positions as to get them immediately, on the least alarm, with all our accouterments on. This we did by lying in line of battle in the rear of our guns, and, being tired and sleepy from constant skirmishing and maneuvering around Kenesaw mountain for the past few days, were soon far away in the land of dreams; but about an hour after lying down, the most of us were aroused by the hurried commands of “Fall in. steady, men I" accompanied by the cracking of brush and the thundering of a cavalry charge (as we then thought) on the opposite side of the road from where we were. Some of the boys actually climbed in small trees to keep from being run over, and some of the most ex cited-fired their guns at the supposed eneiny and the officers called out, “Steady; don’t fire until commanded.” '-For a few seconds suspense was dreadful, but we soon found that the enemy was as badly scared as we, and were fast increasing the distance between us. On investigation we learned that the scare was all brought about by our “cattle” guards, who were driving in a bunch of cattle, and some of the cattle, no doubt, while browsing in the brush in the roadside, ran onto some weary soldier, who, being thus unceremoniously rouged out of his slftmbers, in trying to get away, ran onto some one else, who, in turn, ran onto some one else, and so on, and the cattle, getting alarmed at the racket, went off pellmell in the opposite direction. Thus was the alarm mutual and our 4th of July celebration complete with no casualties save a few black eyes and broken noses, caused by the first ones who got alarmed running over those who were more slow in gettiifg roused up. At the time we were dreadfully alarmed, but after it was all over we were inclined to be ashamed of it, and I presume some of them are ashamed yet, for I have never seen any mention of it since. But why should we be ashamed? It was a very natural Inference. Lee’s Surrender. The last gun was fired, the last roll was called. Ilalf starved, half naked, grim, ( unappalled; Stained with blood and powder, the old army stood; “I have done all things for your good!”' ' Thus spoke their great leader, deep griei : ■ on his face, ! While a halo of glory illumined the place; Some trailed their muskets, and some sheathed their swords, , They had smiled at Grant’s cannon, they wept at Lee’s words. ' And Grant was courteous as the grand 1 knights of old, ! No glad shouts were uttered, no loud ’ drums were rolled; I And the victors saluted those gaunt men r in gray, ; And the fire-winged tempest died slowly away. ’ —Unknown. ■■ i The Sultan of Jahore, a little state , at the top of the Malay peninsula, has , contracted for an electric plant to cost j almost $1,000,000. ’ According to Sir William Crookes, S by 1931 the world’s supply of wheat will be unequal to the increase in pop- ' ulation. t Even a philosopher is apt to fall s down when it comes to making the 1 best of the worst of it

Wee Elsie had been told, By Some hobgoblin bold, To hang her stockings neat * And then this verse repeat: “Twickledee, brickledee, fee fi so sum, Stocking, oh, stocking, much bigger become.” On Christmas Eve, therefore, She said these lines thrice o'er. Lo! hardly were they said. When right above her head A pair of Stockings were That surely seemed, to her A giant to belong—- “ Good-night to you.” she said, ■ And clambered into bed, Quite sure next day woulil show Them filled from top to toe. “Whoa there-! my Jupiter, Gallant and Gray! Quietly, reindeer, a moment here stay.” And leaving them his sleigh, , ■ Old Santy made his*way Quick down the chimney flue And through the fireplace, too. J “Dear me, what's this I see? It surely cannot be — None but a greedy miss Would hang such tilings as this!”

DID YOU RING, GOOD SIR? j rite > ilfcfeOwwfesKSjta ' A;- SWhich shows that even our forefathers had their troubles. —Cincinnati Post.

So Santy sadly took The stockings from their hook, And in their place he put One meant for smaller foot; Nor did he leave behind A gift of any kind. Next day, at sjmrise. a little maid sobbed. Bitterly crying that she had been robbed. When right before her the goblin appeared— “ Greediness robbed you,” he said,, aS he leered. . ',. - |taicniisiKfci| The Boy and Margy thought and thought and thought. Finally they went to Violet Amanda in the kitchen, for they did not want to let father and 1 mother know. It was to be a surprise. This Christmas they had planned to keep the spirit of old St. Nicholas in their hearts, and there were to be gifts . bought with money of their own earni ing. How to earn it was the question. Violet Amanda had no suggestions to ; offer, But Robert, the hired man, had an ■ idea. Now, to look at Robert you’d never believe he could have an idea stowed away under his black skin and woolly topknot; but looks are some- ! times deceiving. “Out in de medder,” he said, slowly, 1 as Violet Amanda poured him a second cup -of coffee, “dey's a pow’ful heap > sight Ob hick’ry nuts on dem big trees, an’ deys mo’ in de wood lot. Yo’ alls ’ could git money fo’ dem nuts es dey wuz gaddered. Dey's jes’ ripe fo’ failin’ out de shucks.” ‘ “Margy I” cried the Boy, “it’s just i the thing. How much could we get for t a bushel of ’em, Robert?” “I heerd somebody say,” said Robert, as he wiped his mouth on the back ’ of his sleeve, “dat yo’ could git two dollahs fo’ dem dis Fall up in de city." “We’ll start the minute we’ve finished breakfast,” they cried. I Mother’s consent to a nutting party ! was given without question. Bags and baskets were provided, and a lunch of'

bread and butter, with honey spread between, and off they started for the clump of hickory trees in the sheep pasture. As they crawled through a hole In the garden fence they could hear the trees rustling in a very queer way for a still day, and pretty soon they espied somebody in one of the trees, shaking it vigorously. “It’s a man!” cried Margy, dismayed. “It’s a thief!” shouted the Boy. “Come on!” And from far away he yelled: “You thief! ■ Come down out of our trees !” But before they reached the spot the man swung himself down from the branches, and behold, it was Robert, grinning and chuckling. ' “I reckoned yo’ alls couldn’t get dose nuts out de talles’ tree, so I done shuck ’em down foh you.” So their first effort, was made easy. That day’s labor showed a fine start on the nut heap, that grew and grew in the corner of the garret. It was not always so easy. After the meadow trees were stripped they had to hunt in the woods, and often the trees were too high for the Boy to climb. Other tiines he and Margy could go jip-Toffethcr and they would both dance on the limbs with all their strength, till the ntits came rattling down in a jolly shower. Sometimes, as the October days grew colder, they would come home, with teeth chattering and fingers and noses blue with cold. Then mother would thaw them out and give them hot lemonade. And the pile of nuts in the- corner of the garret grew and grew. You musn’t think that picking up the nuts was all of the work. Not by any sort of means. For every nut had a

little green house of its own; and although sometimes the four little walls of it fell away at a touch, oftener the nut gatherers had to try force. Two stones would do the business — one to pound on and the other to pound with. Fingers and thumbs got pounded, too, sometimes, and if you want to know if it hurt or not. just try pounding, your own finger dometime when jt is half frozen. But that was part of the affair, and mother’s arnica bottle and salve would stop the ache and dry the tears. Then, too, it was very interesting to unwind the long, narrow rag and show the wound to father after supper. All through the nutting season neither father nor mother asked one single troublesome question, so that made it easy to keep the secret, although both Margy and the boy were nigh to bursting with the importance of it. And the nut pile in the corner of the garret grew and grew. Every time they added to their hoard the whole was carefully measured till at last there were three full bushels, heaped to running over. Uncle Tom was let into the secret, and he came over one day when father and mother were gone and took away the nuts. Two days later he came back looking very important. “Hullo, children,” he said, “come out in the woodshed with me a minute. The old black cat's out there washing her face.” Out there, behind the chip pile they never looked at the black cat, but Uncle Tom opened his hand and showed them six big round silver dollars. “There’s your Christmas money,” he said. ' “We’ll divide evefi,” said the boy generously, “even if you are the. little-est, because you worked just as hard. So there’s three of ’em for each of us.” “What a Christmas we’ll have,” cried Margy rapturously. “The best ever. It’s great fun doing things ourselves.” And so the sweet kindly spirit of good old Saint Nicholas lived again, and grew and grew in the hearts of Margy and the boy, just as the nut pile had grown in the garret. No, indeed, the soul of Saint Nicholas I is not dead, and will never die so long

as there are hearts on earth full of generosity and love.—Portland Oregonian. Little ’ Johnny’s resolutions. “Next Tuesday’ll be New Year’s day,” I Said little Johnny Lake. “Some reserlootions, mom declares, I really ought to make. Mom’s promised to stop gossipin’, An’ so has Sister Sue.. I guess I’ll resolute a bit. Le’s see—what shall I do? “I’ll resolute, I guess, to quit A-splittin’ kindlin’ wood; Then pop’ll have to do that work, Like fathers always should. An’ then, while I’m a-doin’ it, I’ll resolute to quit The Sunda-y school, fer goin’ there With me don’t make no hit. “I’d. like to resolute some way To git myself a.goat; I want a buttin’ billy ram With whiskers on his throat. An’<then I’ll resolute, I guess, To Jbeat up Tommy lluntj^_:— He’s took an’ stole Hiy giri frum me, The doggone little runt! “I reckon that’s enough-fer me To resolute” jist nov.-; At any rate, I’lL.make that do—It’s plenty, anyhow. Le’s see —I start on New Year’s day. Well, that a’in’t very fur. Won’t mom be tickled when she finds How wt-ll I've minded her?” —-Denver Post. Christmas in King Alfred's Reign. In King Alfred’s time, and all through the middle ages Christmas began on St. Thomas’s Day and lasted until Twelfth Night, and was moreover as much a festival for fathers and mothers as for their children. There was no pantomime, it is true; but there was a Lord of Misruled elected in every important household, at court,

at the universities and above all, ai the Inns of Court; and it was his business to see that there were no lapses into seriousness during the Christinas holidays. He was a very expensive institution, it seems; for in Edward Vi's reign, when it was the business of the authorities to make the poor Tittle boyking forget all the murders that were keeping him on the throne, the Christmas revels were particularly costly and the Lord of Misrule’s costume alone cost £52 Bs. Sd. —New York Globe. , A Time of Peril, Clarissa—l’m Always glad when New Year’s day is. safely over. Fidelia —Yes ; it is saddening, anniversary. Clarissa —Oh, I don't mean that. Clarence and I always have a horrid quarrel suggesting improvements in each other's conduct. * “Jessie Christmas!” Little Jessie woke up on Christmas morning and called to her four-year-old sister Mary: “Merry Christmas I” “Jessie Christmas!” promptly answered, the baby.. Stock on Hand. Bradds —Going to make any new resolutions this year, Spikes? Spikes—New ones ? I should say not. ■■ I’ve got a lot of old ones I’ve never used, by Jove! DISCOVERED!! MX/ u vcwn f c Ft— r\

* Lies in the Man. “Wealth doesn’t always brag contentment.” “Neither does poverty.”—-Washing-ton Herald.-. A Mistake. Husband—Only think, my colleague, Cohen, whom we had to dinner last Sunday, has died suddenly. Wife—How I wish we had invited him for next Sunday l—Meggendorfer Blaetter. • First Past the Post. “Yes,” said the humorist, “I. have great respect for the wisdom of the ancients.” “Because why?” asked the cub reporter. • “They were born in time to say most of the smart things before I had a chance to think them.” answered the party of the funny part. Jusit Wanted to See. > wg Kid —Say, mister, got change fer five dollars? " , Kind Gentleman—Yes, my boy ; bore It is. Kid—Thanks, boss; I just wanted to see. it. I’d kinder got to thinkin' dere wasn’t dat much money in circulation! The Mean Westend—What did your wife say when you got home from the stag the other "’night ? ‘ . Broadway—Nothing at all.-■ She just sat down at theipiano arid played “Tell. Me the Old, Old Story.”—PuckWhat He'd Bag. Amateur—l’m . going hunting in the great north woods, old man. and I will send-you down my first trophy. Friend —Thanks, but I am no cannibal; . Amateur—Cannibal ? Friend—Yes. I can’t eat'guides. Goins Some. As the large man in the red sweater j entered the room and seated | himself at the;little table- the waiter ■ placed a hew record on the phonograph, i “What tune is that?” asked the new patron. ‘“When de Harvest Days Am Obah,’ boss,” whispered the waiter. ““Dat gemman am an iceman.” Presently another man entered and seined himxnl' at the-se<-mtd tabic. On went a new record.. -1. ■ > ' “What's that. Sam?" queried the new patron. “Why. ‘When de Harvest Days Ilab Cum.’ Dat gen’man am a plumbah, sah.” A Dilemma. “You are a man •of abundant' leis- = ore,” said the friend. “Why don't you go in for polities?” “What’s the use?” asked Mr. Dustin Stax. ' “If I went into politics and didn’t spend my money, they'd say I was stingy. And if you did spend it. thefe’d be a scandal.”—Washington Star. L The Wisdom of Youth. “800-hoo! Johnny Jones has got de measles, an’ can’t come out.” “Ah! And you miss your dear little playmate?” “Yis’in, he’s de only kid ,in town flat I kin lick —boo-hoo-00-” We All Know Her. Cora —She has such keen perceptions. Dora —And such a blunt way of conveying them.—Puck. The Family Skeleton. Visitor—By George! But you’ve added a great many beautiful volumes to your library since F was here last. Must cost something, old'man? Mr. Meeker —On the level, Bill, I’m on the verge of bankruptcy buying Bouvehir postcard albums and bookcase sections to hold them!—Puck. Same Thing?. “To what does Mr. Cockyfeller attribute his success?” “To hard work.” “I didn’t know he ever did any hard work.” “He didn’t; but he hired a lot of it done for him.” —Cleveland Leader. Rather. Seven-year-old Elsie ran up to her mother saying: “Mamma, Gertrude just said, ‘I ain’t, neither.’ That’s ' pretty poor geography, isn’t it?”—Puck.

Corrected.A little ? rl, the daughter of a man, once sat at the table with bishop win was visiting her When th. y hJ.d finished she obsefvWF 1 that he do no? fold his napkin. Distressed, slv said, “We always fold our napkins, hire.” “Yes, m. dean" said the bishop. “But that is because you use them again. Ln the case ,of a visitor you don’t do t at.” ' v “Oh. y? . ne do!”* said the little girl.—Pure i-. ’ * Safer. Church - Have you joined that “Don’t Worry Chi >” y.et? ' Gotham- No ; I’m going to wait until I get the ] st nstallment on the furniture paid. -Yuikers Statesman. Ka <y on Ttienii“Ffirmti sa 'S the aeroplane is safer than the uto nobile.” “I guess that’s right; it doesn’t mangle the pc pie it goes over.” —Houston Post. Fixed. “But,” s iid the good old lady, “why don’t you ;o to work?” „ A “Why, 1 la'utn,” began the table old >af it, “yer see, I. got a wifq? an’ five clilldren to support- ” “But .he v cgn you support them if you don’t ;o tb work?” “As I iv is 11-sayin' lady, I got a wife . an’ five children to support me;”— The Catlu ic Standard and’Times. Pc-fdctly Ridiculous. Madge— Drily is a girl of surprises. Marjorie —[ should say so. Way, •she’s actu: ly going to marry the young man she was engaged to last summer. —Puck. A Carr cKle Short-Speller. Evident i; ' hey don't “show" some of the Missour folks how to spell. A man who ■ ns robbed inserted the fol- . lowing ad’ utisement in a paper: “One bliwl soot of clows'" “one rasior, witl 1 white bon panel; the pants had' 1 three-cornered liple in the rite side, lat had bin mended by a taylor.”—Afanta Constitution. Texts from Br’er/Willjamx. “Talkin’ bout Tribulation,” said Brother Wi iiams; “w'en he comes ter ; my house makes him welcome—in dis way: I sez ter 'lm, 1 does: ‘Here you is, an’ dar you is: take all de house ter yo'ge'l.’ An deh I tak. s ter de woods.'‘--Atlanta C<institution. 1 ■ ' Awful. OfXi A A Old I. dy—My little-lad, do you smoke cigarettes? ■ . ■ ■ Boy—No ; but I qan give yer a chew • of tobacco. _ • ' Green Room Gibes. Leadin; Lady—That dear little Pittsburg millionaire named his auto . »■ after me. Low Comedian —Good head. It reminds n e of you every time I look at it. Leading Lady—Because it is pretty? Low C imedian —No; because it is so well enameled and does a lot of puffing. -0 The Main Ta.sk. Mrs. ‘ tubb—A regiment of women soldiers would look wonderfully imposing, J jhn. You wouldn't-have any trouble . e Hing them to fall in. Mr. S ibb—-No, but you’d have a lot of troub f: keeping them from falling out, Marin. 5 Making Trouble. “Wha s the matter with all you Swampli j raters?” demanded Citiman. “You alf appear to hate Newcomb, and yet he’s f decent sort of fellow.” . “Huh ” snorted Subbubs, “the .miser- 1 able clr mp bought his wife a S3O hat J the ofb r day, and now there’s nov"’ peace ii; bur homes.”—Catholic Standard and Times. cure for tlie Moment. —- “Wbj is it that a woman who gossips is always sure to find a listener?” “I sir pose,” answered Miss Cayenne, “it’s din to a realization that when she’s g& siping to you she can’t be gos siping a x>ut you.”—Washington Star. , . ' Obeying Orders. Jones -Did you deliver my message to Mr. Smith? . Johi 1 j—No, sir. His office was locked. Jones -Lwell, why didn’t you wait for . him, as I told you? Johnny—There was a nqte on the door saying, “Return at once,” so I ciinic buck. —Philadelphia Inquirer. Wonderful. Mr. Howard—lsn’t it wonderful what fetee Niagara Iftis? Mrs jalkmuch— Marvelous!, Do you * know vhen I first saw it for a full momen I couldn’t speak.—Brooklyn ? Eagle. VJhat He "Was Painting. The irtist (with an important air) —Yes, I’ve just got home. I’ve been painting >n the backwoods of Maine for the last month. The Iritic—Well, well! What’s the . senre : f putting advertisement signs there v here there are so few people to see tbt a? i