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About The Red Cloud chief. (Red Cloud, Webster Co., Neb.) 1873-1923 | View Entire Issue (March 14, 1884)
P?? R.tSBK"90S;j J!UKn' tM - - -r - '1 ? r.3JK r i THE BED CLOUD CHIEF X A. C. KOSHER, Piilisler. RED CLOUD. NEBRASKA QUEER. - -tTu W0I"n wht? hath bounteous share ga walth. and who is youngand "With not a care Fave to bedeck herself In finest silks and satins every day? -For her is stirpjui th ,i..!.:. .. On her commands the deftest servant -rait-o sounds of childish romnin "2 ? Zr"" f When, to receive her iriendi," she sits In Goes she abroad, a carriage saUn-lincd should- "Ahere'er 6-e chooses that SIUIU. it A?,3 l? nei,ler friend nor kin gives she od unnance their Pleasure or their IoUis may destroy, and want of sunshine fade, sso parts with nothing from her hoarded store; On poverty she looks with scornful pazo. And nc er to beggar is unbarred her door. Queer, Isn't it, dear? I know another: very poor is she. And though notold, her brow is marked with care; "i Erl1ch,UAren5:usJer round her, and 'tis hard To find them food to eat and clothes to wear. .sometimes the meal she series is scant indeed: Always her hours of sleep and rest are few: lie hath no help but little, willing hands, J-nat, though love guides them, can but little w do. And yet if poorer friend seek her, that friend With outstretched hand and brightsomo smile is met, "While wito the best the eottaye can afford In kindly haic the humble board is set. ?,? .m ner loor no beggar turns away w ithout some help, if but a bit of bread: j And even homeless dogs about it throng j In simple trust that there they may bo fed. Queer, Isn't it. dear? Harver'a H'eeWy. - 37XDEI2 THE It US SET LEAVES. One happy day, a man and a maid Together walked within a glade 1 he summer-time was past The russet leaves and nuts as brown, -Had on the ground been showered down ' By autumn's chilling blast. The south wind sang amonz the trees, "The dead leaves fluttered in its breeze; The blue-bird, warbling low, Trcpared to take hw yearly flight To lands where summer still was bright, Bej ond the fall of snow. And joyfully thi man and maid, "While through the rustling leaves they straj el. . Talked of the coming years liuildni"- a castle m the air. .And peopling it with rancies fair, leaving no room for fears. And playfully to her lie said: When next the leaves fchall fall and fade When just one year has flown "We'll walk again here, as to-day: .And then, my darling, come w bat may. You'll be my wife my own!" The seasons pass the year lias flown. .Alas! a man goes forth alone Along a pathway thickly thrown With leaves, withered and dead. He cruslie them leneath his feet. And think-;, like them, his hopes so sweet Have laded all, and fled. The blue-birds sing above him still. And through the leafless trees at will . The south wind siirhs and grieves, I Winle healone wanders to weep Wher" evermore she lies asleep. Under the ruseet leaves. Anna L. Lear, m Vcmnrtst'g Monthly. 1IADE OE MAKRED. BY JESSIE FOTHEROII.I -Author of "One of Three," "Probation." n-eUMdn." Els. "Th CHAPTER XXI. CONnxuED. "It seems to me," said Mab'elle, "that all the master mariners who ever lived .have been shipwrecked, and died, and il got buried here." Then into the church, where the light streamed softly- in on the eastern side, and the homely service was carried on, and the homely sermon preached aftcr ward. The two girls sat on a bench in the background, near the door, with Hermann between them; and Mabelle. wrho was next the porch, could see the .sea, in a shining silver expanse, spread beneath and before her, as far as the cye could reach. 1 There is something in the quiet beauty of a church service on a summer Sun day evening in a country place which is touching and pathetic, one hardly knows why. The three young hearts were perhaps overladen with happiness with the joy of living and breathing amid so much beauty, and with great, bright hopes for the future, as young hearts will be. Be that as it may, a silence and gravity settled over them all, and Mabelle found her eyes dim with tears once or twice during the course of the simple, noble liturgy. The sermon over, they all rose, and the last hvmn was given out- Mabelle feit a strange little shiver as she opened the 1 ook, and read: "For those at sea." What had made the clergyman choose I that hynin, for such an evening, with " The sea outside, like a great, heaving jheet of glass? was it simply as a re minder that "in the midst "of life we are in death?" or to recall the storms which had raged in days gone by to t prepare for those which must rage in days to come, despite the exquisite calmness of to-night? For, thought J Mabelle, as the solemn notes began, vas not the churchyard full of the graves of those who had perished at sea "master mariners," simple seamen. mothers and children who had drowned together, and been found and picked up, clasped fast in each other's arms? The first verse had been sung; the last lines of it were sounding solemnly: Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee, For those in peril on the seal" Suddenly there flashed subtly upon her mind the remembrance of Philip. Supposing he were in any peril by sea or ltnd! If it had not been for us," she thought: "if he had never met us he would have been safe at home in En gland now, at this very moment" And -still the chant went on, and still she sang, with an eagerness and a fervor "which lent strength to her voice: Most Holy Spirit, who didst brood I'pon the chaos dark and rude. And bid its angry tumult.ccase. And jrive 2or wild confusion, peace Oh. hoar us when we cry to Thee, Tor thoe in peril on the sea!" It was with a heart full to overflow ing of a reasonless fear and excitement that, when the hymn was over, she dropped upon her knees, and covered -tip her face with her hands 'while the "benediction was be'ng given. ;vAs U1C3 went home they were much JK're si!cnt than thev hail fccra when rf-i .- , -!!.. imy came. nermann drew urace s siriu uuougii jus to help uer up a steep ltH. and Grace, as K to sa to Mabelle: I You,.too! vou shall not be left out in 1 jjBcinu," cl:s;fd her friend's hand in 1 1C s. Ti. jloauhng was falling, the i -sk--wy-andthe stare s peen forth, Although they .had reached the top of the Sill they still continued to walk, hand in hand, and arm in arm, along the upland road, and through the dewy fields, slowly and silently, as if they would have kept the precious moments by them a little longer. "Ah,"-at last said Grace, with a sigh, close at home now! And here is mother beside the gate, and father with her, looking out forus." They approached the gate beside which, indeed, stood Mrs. Massey, her hand resting on the shoulder of a man who, leaning upon the gate, looked up to her. It was Grace who, suddenly snatching her hand from her lover's arm, made a bound forward, exclaim ing in a stilled voice, between laughing and crying: "Philip! Oh. Philip!" Mabelle stood on the instant, feeling .. . herself suddenly as cold as ice, fast as if rooted thereby nia-nc, while her heart beat almost to suffocation. What a fearful, terrible contretemps! What an unfortunate wretch she was to be doomed thus to be here, poisoning Phil ip's meeting with his loved ones! There was a scene of wild, incoherent gladness going on by the gate. Grace, wild with her joy, questioning, and hav ing no time to be answered; first hug ging Philip to her heart, and then push mg him away, that she might the better look at him and see how much he was changed. "lou are changed! I am certain you have grown ever so much bigger and broader, and so brown. Oh, I am proud of you! I wish you had been at church with us to-nght. How every one would have stared at 3ou! Oh, I can hardly believe it it is too joy ful!" "Don't 3011 think we are almost tie Iroj) here, Mabelle?" at this moment said Hermann, aside to her. He spoke kindly, for he had not failed to see her look of utter consternation, and even fright, and Cra-rc had made him par tially acquainted with the favts of the case, so that he thought in his good- naturcd soul: "Poor little thing! Deuced uncomfortable for her, and I dare say she'd like to get out of it." "Not you," replied Mabelle, in a rapid, distressed whisper: "but for me! Oh, Hcrmann.ivhat am I to do? Help me. to get out of the way! I can not in trude nivself upon them again to night.." She thought she perceived a chance of escape, and was going to slip by, be tween Grace and Mrs. Masey; but Grace, in the midst of her transports, noticed this attempt at a Hank move ment, and caught Mabelle by the hand. "Where are j-ou going?" she cried. "Come here! Philip, this is Mabelle Fairfax. 1 don't expect you would have known her, would you?" With which she, as it were, thrust forward the terrified Mabelle, who looked up with a kind of desperate cour age, and beheld Philip Massey, indeed, but not the Philip Massey of "old days, whom she had always liked, with a feel ing of sisterly regard and a sense of equality which had left no room for em barrassment. This Philip Massey was quite different, and in contact with him she felt herself sink into the merest child. He was so grave and self-contained, so entirely a man, so utterly re moved, irom boyhood and boyhood's follies, thatshe was startled, bewildered. Not a day had passed, since that fatal morning three years ago, on which Mabelle had not thought of Philip and the wrongs her sister had done him, but she had always thought of him as some thing quite different from this. She could not imagine this man madly in love with Angela, but there was some thing in the air which made her think: "It would be dreadful to be in his way when he did not want one! I could not bear it, and I must get away as soon as I can. To think that Angela jilted him for Mr. Fordyce! Oh, dear!" All this had passed through her mind as it were in parenthesis, and now she heard Philip saving: "This Mabelle Fairfax! Yes, I should have recognized her anywhere." He took her trembling, nerveless hand, spoke two or three words, asked her how she was. glanced with a sort of amused surprise at her evident em barrassment, at her blank face and wide-open eyes, and then, as if he had hardly seen her, turned to Hermann Berghaus with such a hearty greeting, thought Mabelle, who, in effecting her escape, did not fail to see Philip's nand resting on Hermann's shoulder, the pro longed hand-clasp, the familiarly atfec tionate: "Well, old fellow, 1 am right glad we are to be brothers after all!" She saw Grace come close up to them, and she stole away to her room with uncontrollable tears limning down her face. "1 can never stay here; I can not bear it," she said again, within herself. "I can not bear him to look at me as if he did not see me, and yet I can't ex pect him to look at me in any other way, for I must be a very disagreeable spectacle for him."' CHAPTER XXII. i REPARATION REQUIRED. It was Tuesday afternoon, two days after Philip's sudden appearance at his father's house. Grace was wandering from one parlor to another, looking into them, shaking her head and then look ing out again. "Where can the child have hidden herself? Sh mnst b in lior nwn room," speculated Miss Massey, as she took her way un the broad, shallow. oaken staircase, and, going along a white-washed passage, Knocked at a bed room door. "Come in!" cried Mabelle's voice, and Grace entered. Her visitor was seated at a table which stood in one of the windows. She had writing ma terials before her, and appeared to be engaged in the composition of a letter. "What are you doing?" demanded Grace. "Why are you shut up here? I have been looking for you every where." "I am writing a letter, which I want to go by to-night's post when the boy goes to tho town," said Mabelle, loot ing rather embarrassed. "Indeed! Well, make your letter as short as yon can. for I'have a lot of things 1 want to sa3 to 3-ou. r We are taiKing about a picnic. "Yes; I shall nave done in a moment 1 never could understand -Bradshaw.' you know, and that is why I have been so long about it" "-Bradshaw?-" echoed Grace, with a sudden look of suspicion. "What do you want with 'Bradshaw?' " "To tell Angela by what train to ex pect me, of course," replied Mabelle, nervously, and unsuccessfully essaying a smile of indifference. "Why, in the name of common sense, should Angela want to know the train a month beforehand?" "A month! Oh, but I must go the day after to-morrow," was the answer, in a would-be matter-of-course tone. Nonsense! You are to stay another month." "Indeed, Grace, I can not. I have hpnn Jiwftv rmif Inner pnnncrh aa it: 5a I am sure they would not like me to re main so much longer." "Who said they would? but we should like you to do so, and that is the principal thing," retorted Grace, unscrupulously. "Now, don't be silly, Mabelle. It is utterly impossible for you to go. Give me that letter, and let me tear it up." She stretched out her hand toward it, but Mabelle' s little lingers closed upon it like a vise, and there was anything but a yielding expression in her eyes. "I know "it for a fact," continued Grace, "that Mr. Fordyce told you to go away and enjoy yourself as long as you liked, for you needed a change. You wrote and told me so yourself. Will you deny your own dispatches, as the Opposition say the Government do?" "It is quite different now," said Ma belle, hastily. "And please do not hinder me, Grace, or my letter will not be ready for Tom to take it down." " I am sure I hope it won't, so far as I am concerned. You offer me a premium to stay and interrupt you.- Why do 3-011 wish to go? Why this sudden abhorrence of us and our society? You said noth ing about it before." - Mabelle maintained an embarrassed silence, and Grace continued: "You know perfectly well that we all wish you to stay." " Not all," escaped from Mabelle's lips involuntarily, and she bit them with vexation, and, folding up her let ter, said: " For several reasons, I must go on Thursday, and 3011 will be very unkind and verj- unfriendly if 3-ou tr' to pre vent it," "Now 1 know," said Grace, tri umphantly. " I might have guessed before. It is because 3'ou want to run away from Philip, you absurd little creature." "No, I don't want to run away from him," answered Mabelle, miserable in the conseiousne.-s of a burning face which would not return to its normal hue. " Do you mean to say that if Philip had not returned 3ou would have treat ed me in this wa3-?" " Treated 3-011! How unkind 3'ou are, Grace. It is absurd to pretend "that he can like me to be here, and whatever 3-ou sa3 I will not stay. I should be miserable if 1 did." "Upon my word! A compliment to us and our hospitality! Pnty what dif ference do 3-ou suppose it can possibly make to Philip?" " I can not imagine what reason 3ou can have for raking up the past in this way when all I wish is to have it for gotten. You can not forget that my sister treated 3-sur brother shamefully, and he can not have forgotten it, cither. I have never for a day forgotten it. The very name of Fairfax must be abominable in his ears, and the sight of me must be hateful to him. It must completch- spoil his pleasure in being at home again to be confronted by me at every turn. It is an idea that 1 can not bear, and I am going home; ni3' mind is made up." "And what if I told 3ou that -ou were quite mistaken; that Phil p had long ago got over that treatment of him' b3' 3'our sister, and that he would as soon see 3011 henj as any other girl?;' "You ni'ght tell me so, but 3011 know very well that he would not.. It is of no use to talk in that way." "Then 3ou are quite decided?" "Quite." "Then I shall have to be very cross with you. Of course I can't hold you here by ropes and cords, but 3ou need not suppose that 3ou can treat me in this way with impunity. I am of a most lcvengeful temperament Send vour letter: oh. bv all means, send vour 1 letter! There are ever so many more on the hall table waiting to go. Put yours with them, m3 dear, and let it go. But I shall punish you for your un friendliness; ves, this very afternoon, too." Miss Masse3''s ees flashed as she ro?e. drawing" herself up, and looking rather superbly down upon her slighter and more gentle fnend. "Oh, Grace," began Mabelle, to whose eyes the tears had rushed, how " But Grace had swept out of the room, leaving behind her a general impression of dark eyes flashing wrathfully, of a heightned" color, aud a malign, disdain ful smile. Mabelle finished addressing her letter, stamped it, and said to herself, in a re flective undertone: "It's of no use. I am a little fool, I suppose, since he never seems to notice me, even; but if he were not reminded of something disagreeable by the very sight of me he would speak, I am sure. He is net hard-hearted: and he has a kind word for everybody but me. It is Pei ,-Pe for Grace to talk; he would say anything to please her. Is it likely he would own that he wished I would cet away and leave them alone? Grace will have to be angry if she likes, but my letter must go' With this she found herself, to her own great surprise and displeasure, cry ing: but, quickly drying her tears, took up her broad hat and her letter and went down stairs. As Grace had said, there were several letters on the table, and Mabelle laid hers with the rest, and then took her way out of doors, through the garden, and across the fields to the cliff, there to sit and seek relief to her troubled feelings. "I really am an unlucky girl," she meditated. "Why was there when he came home? J have been in a fever ever since. He must think me a horrid little intrusive thing to be in the wav at such a time; and he looks at me so coldly and absentlj. as if he did' not see me just as he might look at a fly on the window, or ajpider on the wall. Be has evidently quite forgotten how vcrr.kind he used once to be, but I have no mt even if -I do deserve it, I can'i u1 Grace might be more consul- When she comes and towers 4ie like she did just now, and en" ovty tlasl Id her m-eat eyes upon me, she look J.so exactly like him that I could almost. A rushjiast her of some moving body drew her attention to the form of Dc Johnson, who, with an unseemly haste very rare with him, whirled by, arrest ing" himself by a backward spring just in time to save himself from being dashed over the cliff to certain -death, and then transferred his attentions to her as if in a paroxysm of affection. "M3 dear Dr. Johnson!" she had be gun, in the tone of one who would rea son with an impetuous person, "k a little less violent, or ' " Let him alone! He'll take care not to risk his precious life. He is like his immortal namesake, too fond of the good things of the kitchen to prema turely cut himself off in his enjoyment of them," said a voice behind her a voico which caused Mabelle to start vio lently and make a palpable movement of dismay as she beheld Philip, alone, except for Dr. Johnson, standing above her, and looking down from what seemed to Mabelle an immense height, for he stood upon a little knoll of grass, and she was sitting in the bottom of a small hollow between two ridges. "Do 1 disturb 3ou?" he asked, throw ing awa3 his cigar, and was it possi ble? seating himself beside her. "N no; I am not going to stay here long," answered Mabelle, inwardly wondering when adversto would cease to persecute her; wondering, too, still more,owhat strange chance had sent Philip there. "Not stay long! You have onH just come, have 3011?" he asked, looking at her intentl, and with imperturbable gravity. "No well about " "About three minutes," he inter posed; "because I saw 3ou go while Grace was shaking me out of my chair and telling me to go after 36u." "Telling you to come alter me!" ejaculated Mabelle, on whose horrified mind the truth now burst in its entirety. Grace had, indeed, put her scheme of revenge into operation with the prompt itude and skill of a great General. "Yes, she has sent me after vou," said Philip, tranquill, while he rested his chin on one hand and stroked back the ears of Dr. Johnson with the other, a process which caused that intelligent animal to put forth his tongue farther than ever, and to grin a hideous grin of lnortVihtp entiii'sntiiin "She said she had quarreled with you, and that 3ou had been unkind no, 3ou had been 'ver3 nast3,' that was the form of expression she used." "Oh, dear!" was all Mabelle could ejaculate. " "She sa3rs yon want to go away." he continued; and if he had taken no notice of her before, Mabelle could no longer accuse him of maintaining that line of conduct. He was observing her innocent I3', and the fact did not intend to reassure her cither in mind or manner. Mabelle had worried herself bv brood ing over the situation until she could no longer see it in its proper light or proportions. Her conscience was mor bidly sensitive, and Grace did not know, could not guess, the real agon3 she was inflicting upon the girl by her jesting piece of -vengeance. "Yes no. I don't want to go but I am afraid I must." "But why? Grace sas that a few days ago ou seemed pleased at the prospect of staying," said Philip, with a half smile in his eyes as he saw the uncontrollable Hash face at his . uestion. rising to Mabelle's to be continued. The Maples. We have four species of the maple indigenous to the States east of the Rocky Mountains that are well worthy of extended cultivation. The sugar or rock maple is a well-known tree 111 all the Northern States, succeeding best in lime-stone soils and those containing considerable potash, and is more abundant on high, dry ridges than in low, moist grounds. The wood is veiy hard, fine grained, and susceptible of a high polish: is extensively used for all kinds of inside work, and is every year becoming more scarce and valuable. It is a tree of the easiest cultivation, and ma3 be raised from seed, or seedlings can be gathered in the young unlimited numbers in our Northern forests. Those who r.iake a business of gathering these seedlings sell them for little more than tho cost of pulling up and packing. The white or silver maple is more plentiful west of the Alleghany Mount ains than east of them, and the voun" seedlings can be procured in the forests or from nurseries in any quantity, and at a ver- trifling, cost This tree grows to a very large size, often eighty feet high, with a stem six feet or more . in diameter. The wood is white, fine grained and light, and is excellent for inside work, or for beams and joists, but rather too soft to endure much wear, as when employed for floors. It is one of the most rap idly growing of all our native trees, ex cepting, perhaps, the poplars and wil lows. The wood, when seasoned, makes good fuel, but is not equal to the hard maple. The common red. or swamp maple, is another valuable spe cies for low, wet lands; the wood is more firm than the white maple, and is extensively used for cabinet work, wooden ware and similar purposes. It is very common in all low grounds throughout the Eastern States. The seeds of this and the white maple ripen early in summer, and if sown as soon as they fall will produce trees one to two feet high the first season. The large leaved maple (Acer macrophillum) is a Western species, native of California, Oregon, and northward. It grows to a very great size. The wood resemble that of the sugar maple, and is equally valuable for all purposes for which the latter is used. It has not been fully tested in the East, but will probably prove hardy in all the Middle States, provided seed is obtained for raisiBg tke trees from the cooler regions oT theft Northwest. N. 1. Sun. A Portland (Me.) man claims the power of reading any letter placed on his Jieadwjthputjteeing it. T WhttEad? The testimony already taken before the investigating committee of the United States Senate, tstablishes the fact that the death of J. P. Matthews, of Mississippi, was not an act of individual assassination, but an incident in the course of an armed insurrection and organized rebellion against the author ity of the United States, extending not merely throughout Copiah County, but into several of the surrounding conn ties. It is not necessary in order that a mob movement may have the character, in law, of armed insurrection and rebel lion that the people engaged in it shall contemplate an overthrow of tho exist ing form of government and the substi tution of a new one, as the Southern rebels did in 1861-4. Shay's whisky rebellion was a complete rebellion. though it contemplated only the defeat of the enforcement of a single Bevenue law. The Copiah Count- Rebellion aimed to defy by military means and by armed force the authority of the United States in several counties, to the end of defeating in those counties so much of the Reconstruction acts and of the amendments to the Constitution of the United States as gave the colored raco civil and political rights, and especially the right to vote. For this purpose the whito insurrectionists adopted essen tialh the same militarj means as were adopted in 1860-4 by the rebellion led by Jeff Davis. They organized forces which publicly proclaimed defiance to Federal law as their object, viz., that no man should be permitted to "or ganize the blacks against the whites in Copiah County," meaning that no white man should be permitted to favor and co-operate with the blacks in the exer cise ot the political rights given the latter by Federal law. They well knew that under existing Federal law every man had the same right to organize blacks for party purposes as to organize whites. Their crime was the same as Calhoun's would have been had he in 1833-4 organized an armed force to re sist the collection of Federal duties, an act for which President Jackson de clared he would hang Calhoun higher than Haman should he attempt it Their crime whs simply and baldl3' treason and rebellion agt inst the author ity of the United States. It is quite immaterial that the authors ot these crimes imagine that now that the States arc reconstructed and in the Union no power can punish treason and rebellion in the United States. It is equalby as immaterial that the Govern or of Mississippi neglects and refuses to either preserve order or to call upon the President of the United States to do so. The precedent set by the United States in some thirteen cases in 1860, of sup pressing rebellion within a State with out waiting for a requisition from the Governor thereof, and, indeed, where in nearly every case the Governor and Legislature formed part of the rebellion, jnuit effectually set at rest the old no tion that the United States derives its power to suppress armed insurrection in a State from the request of the Gov ernor of that State. The Constitut:on of the United States makes it indeed the duty of a President to suppress an insurrection within a State on the request of its Governor, even though the insurrection be not against tho United States at all, but only aimeti to subvert or resist the State authorities and State laws. Such a case was that of the Dorr insurrection in Rhode Island. It did not attack Fed eral authority, and in such cases it may, and even then possibly in some cases it might not be prudent or necessary to await the request of the Governor. The Copiah County case, however, is obscured b3 no such question. The object of the insurrection was and is to defeat and overthrow the authority of the United States in those counties and largely- throughout the State in the matter of colored men voting. In this case tho. sovereignty of the United States is as directly assailed by Ras Wheeler and his hundreds "of travel ing clubs" and his "committees of twen3-four from each Supervisor's district," who ride around with bands of music, firing their cannon into firing nejjroes' colored n ntll!iAf flirvniiHiw jimiI I. H f u men unless they promise to vote tne democratic ticKCt and pour ing their buck-shot mto white Repub licans of high character and uni versally loved, as it was assailed by Beauregard and his nineteen thousand troops firing on Fort Sumter. The state of insurrection in this case began when these illegal bodies began to or ganize; it continued as one uninter rupted act of the same insurrection, so as to take in every murder as an in- cident in the general crime. The fact that it is a continuous and loyally con trolling insurrection is proved by the fact that the whole populace bow "to it, including the courts and the Grand Jury, who become accomplices in the insurrection by refusing to find bills or even to investigate. The armed insur rection will constitute a continuing crime until tho authority of the Gov ernment is restored and the partici pators brought to punishment The President's omission to do so by no means condones the right or lessens the duty of Congress to pass laws re quiring him to do so. The failure of the present Congress to pass such a law would not lessen the duty of the next to do so. One point the people of the South and the Southern Representatives in Con gress may as well understand. There is a latent power in the people of the United States which will keep on grow ing in will and determination until Ras iVheeler and his Copiah County insur rectionists are not merely suppressed, but brought to complete and inexorable justice, not a3 murderers and assassins, nor as private criminals against the laws of Mississippi, but as insurrection ists and rebels against the authority of the United States the last to deserve hanging but the first to get it Let the record 00 made up and the next cam paign be fought, if need be, on the issue of bringing the Copiah County and Danville rebels to justice. If there is no public sentiment in the South to sus tain them they can. be promptly pun ished. The Southern members of Con gress .will themselves in that case co operate to pass laws for bringing them to justice. If, on the other hand, the opinion of the South indorses or con nives at these outrages, then the issue ior ine approaching rrcsiuentiai cam paign as straight! before us. Chicago inter Ocean. The Party T Wlsetat aid Frsieietv' The idea is being industriously urged by certain newspapers and politicians with the best intentions in the world we are bound to believe that a West ern man should by all means be select ed as the Republican candidate for President So much is heard from day to day to that effect, indeed, that it is worth while to analyze the notion a lit tle, and see what it realh amounts to. Is there an sound and practical rea son why a man from one section, of the country should be preferred to a man from another section as the nominee of a great part for the first office in the land? Can a single plausible argument be urged, even from a strict partisan point of view, in favor of ordering the course of the National Convention ac cording to a theory which would either favor or disparage a particular man as a canoiuate because of ins place 01 res idence? It seems to us that there can be but one answer, and that is that all such talk is absurd, ill-timed and un justifiable. In the first place, the record and the philosoph3' of the Republican party are distinctly unsectional. Republican doc trines and policies are not for any one class or locality, but for the whole peo plo and the entire country. The strength and splendor of the party's character reside chiefly in the fact that it has never sought to make discrimina tions of a mcrel3 geographical descrip tion, and has never recognized any dis tinctions but those of patriotism and justice. It is above all else a National partythe party of one flag and ol equal rights and "privileges. The plan upon which it has always chosen its standard-bearers has been the broad and practical one of preferring the men that seemed best adapted to win the victories and advance the welfare and usefulness of the. organization, without any regard to wharc they happened to live. Not one of the men nominated for the Presidency on the Republican ticken has been chosen on account of his identification with any given section of the country, but solely tor the rea son, in every" case, that ho appeared to be the best man for the emergency. It will not be claimed, surely, that Fremont was nominated in I80G be cause he was a Western rather than an Eastern man. His services as a fron tier explorer had helped to make him prominent, to be sure, but the3 were not such services as signalized him in a political way, and it was the East more than the West that brought about his candidacy. Lincoln was nor nom inated in 1860, nor again in 1864, on the ground that he was a Western man, but in spite of that fact strictly speaking; for in the first instance, at least, there were considerations properly to be 3 urged in behalf of an Eastern candi date, as the situation then stood with respect to party leaders. Grant was chosen both times, as everybody under stands, for reasons wholly apart from the question of locality, and because he had done more than any other man of his time to preserve the unity of the country and put down a sectional re bellion against right and law and liber ty. Hayes and Garfield, though both from tho West were not selected on that account particularly, but by virtue of influences that wouM have been just as ouerative had they resided in Con necticut or New Jersey, instead of Ohio. When each of these men was elected, in turn, he became the President of all . the States, and of every section of the country, as any man must do who shall be elected next November. Nobody would expect or desire a President to use his power or his prerogatives, to further the interests of one locality at the expense of or in preference to those of another locality. A President who should manifest a disposition of that kind would be a recreant and a simple ton. By the same token, no candidate for the Presidency would dare declare a purpose, if elected, to administer the office as a Western man, or an Eastern man. What sense can there be, then, in making such an issue on the nomi nation? Is it not obviously improper and mischievous to urge a consideration 01 mat sort, eitner ior or against any man as a Presidential quantity? More, especially, it strikes us, should West ern aspirants refrain from the use of such an argument, for if there be any thing in it at all, it is manifestly on the side of the East, since every man so far nominated for President by tho Repub lican party has chanced to have his home in the West. The part of wisdom and prudence, of duty and common sense, is to select for a candidate the ablest, cleanest strong est, most available man that can be found, let him live where he may. It is a great deal more important to choos a standard-bearer whose name and char acter shall guarantee his fitness for the position and inspire general confidence in the party's integrity of principle and for Eurpose than it is to make sure that he elongs to a given section or has grown up amid certain social and industrial conditions. If Vermont or New York, Illinois or Iowa, Colorado or Oregon, has that man, then he should be put in the field and worked for zealously and determinedly, without a care as to v. hat particular corner of the common coun try it has pleased him to honor with his residence. That is the mauner in which Republican candidates have been chosen and elected heretofore, and that is the course which should be pursued this year. The nomination of a President is much too serious a matter to be determined by appeals to sectional pride or prejudice; and any man who encourages or permits the raising of such an issue in his interest is clearly not the man that the occasion requires. All sections and all States are alike con cerned in having a man placed in nomi nation who will stand not for locality, bnt for the doctrines and objects of th party, ana ior those personal capabil ities and virtues which command re spect and promote the party's chances of success. There are such, men, both in the West and in the East; and the matter of choice between them is one that should be determined solely on the basis of their relative worth and fit ness, and with an utter absence of sec tional feeling or discussion. St. Louis Olobe-Danoctat. Id the Adirondacks are many abandoned farms which Jbnve gone back to a forest condition, therefore les cleared land is found there now than, was seen fifty years ago. 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