Evening Star Newspaper, March 27, 1897, Page 21

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, MARCH 27, 1897—24 PAGES. THE BOOTH DYNASTY Some of the Peculiarities of a Distin- guished Family. DESCRIBED BY ONE WHO KNEW THEM Genius Marred at Times by Mental Perversity. ee ACTOR'S MEMORIES AN OLD Written for The Evening Star. HAT THE BORDER line of sanity was touched by several members of the ex- traordinary Booth family I think will be conceded by all who were acquainted with their history, and certainly by all who came in contact with them. It has been my hap- piness to know them all personally, from Junius Brutus, to the last and the first. youngest ‘The terrible deed of John Wilkes Booth, that struck down the foremost American of our time, had its origin in the disordered brain of the young man’s father, for if not maness there was at least perversion of {intellect In the progenitor of this brilliant and handsome family. Junius Brutus Booth was still in the twenties when he measured himself against the great Edmund Kean, who then domin- ated the British stage. In spite of Booth's handsome, expressive face and powerful, meledious voice, that won him instant at- tention, Kean still continued to hold his supremacy with press and public. Booth had ability enough, but lacked steadiness of mind and tenacity of purpose, for had he persiste ean’s irregularities would soon have gi him opportunity. But love would-be triumphed Roscius abandoned ever ambition. the The contest, Junius Bratus Booth, Sr. left the field to his rival and eloped with the sweet and beautiful woman who b came the mother of a family for great talent and beauty Sterdam, where t is said he acted h language. He was an accompiished linguist, for it Is of record that he appeared in Racine’s tragedy the at ater in New Orleans, where he the highest claim. Theatrical ories and anec- the vagaries and eccentricitics of r genius. Rooth's Facetiousness. Jamieson, an excellent actor, once hat he was strolling with Booth Charles street, New Orleans, when (Jamieson) made some remark about weather. Booth fell upon his then, exclaiming: “O wise how much more art thou than along § he man, leok said, thy I told this to Edwin one day, and ‘The old man was gu ying him.” he gave us his id a of Othello, he made as black as a negro. What wretehed dressing and bandy legs, he was a sorry sight. Not even his tine ) from occasionai rip- - despite his eccentrici- us ing during some gi ne in the vivid in uld the boy was appalling sll in ps at the mere he wonderful actor came from s as playful as a kitten. of Fitzhardinge, an old When he first saw me early in the « b> serutinized me most mysteri- “What do you play?” he asked. nge.”" said I. “My boy, my dear this won't do at all. You are not properly. Come with me and you,” and he did. I found out what 4 when I glanced into a up like Scaramouch. The zreat man was having fun with me. A Kindly Footlight King. Yet he was s itself. I was very young and ver: us, and had mislaid my cane. ‘0 young actor can play an old man w:thout a cane! The great man hunted & orner until he found it. Wh nington Booth and General Consumption is no especter of person: most dreadful of d we breathe, money we handle. Perfectly harmless in a healthy body, they are absolutely ‘The germs of this ases float in the air in the water we drink, in the de. wherever weakness exists. The } are the most sensitive of all the vital organs. The delicate lining of the Jung cells and passages is easily irritated. If the blood is impure and germful the lung lining soon becomes inflamed. Im- pure matter accumulates. If a consump- tion germ is in the body it lodges there and propagates. Soon the entire body is full of bacilli and consumption has firm hold. Many doctors say that consumption is incurable and necessarily fatal. They are mistaken. Dr. Pierce's Golden Med- ical, Discovery will cure per cent. of all s of consumption, if taken prompt- ly according to directions. It has cured thousands. It is quickly absorbed by the blood and searches out every disease getm in the body. It assists nature to throw off germs and all effete matter and restores the body to perfect health and strength. When the bowels are clogged they unload their impurities into the blood which in turn deposits them throughout the entire system. The victim of this condition suffers from headaches, blurred vision, heart-burn, sour stomach, foul taste in the mouth, flatulence and biliousness. Doctor Pierce's Pleasant Pellets promptly cure consti- pation and these attendant ill One is a gentle ative. They never gripe. Druggists sell them. Substitutes are dangerous. —> Sam Houston of Texas were t cronies. It was a picture worthy of ch, to see this eccentric pair take their afternoon promenade along Pennsylvania avenue. Houston stood six feet four inches and Booth about five feet five inches. As it was winter, Houston’s ample shoulders were covered with a large gray blanket that reached to his heels, his grizzled head was surmounted by a huge Mexican sombrero. Booth was fashionably attired in a brown, long-skirted overcoat, with buttons high up in the small of his back, and his classic head held up a high-crowned silk hat; and thus they marched, Ittle Booth clinging to the arm and with difficulty keeping pace with the sturdy strides of the hero of San Jacinto. They were on pleasure bent, and were soon lost to the view of the amused pedestrian fn the hospitable portals of a famous hostelry. I never saw this singular man and mighty master of tragic emotion again after this engagement at Washing- ton. In 1852, under the auspices of his son Junius, he went with Edwin to California. John Wilkes Booth. His success there was marred by his un- reliability, and he returned, leaving Edwin there, and landed at New Orleans, where he acted for the last time, his closing parts being Sir Edward Mortimer in the “Iron Chest" and John Leimp in the “Review” at the St. Charles Theater. He boarded the steamboat J. S. Cheneworth, was taken suddenly fll, dying before he could reach medical aid, seemingly uncared for and al- most unknown, an inglorious end to a most checkered career. On a visit to California in 1856 I first met Junius Brutus Booth, jr., eldest son of the great actor. Like his father, his head was molded on classic lines, but he had a figure of more athletic proportions than the sire. A handsome face and amiable expression bespoke him a man whom it was pleasant to meet. Junius Brutus, Jr. While playing at the Chatham Theater, New York, the unsophisticated youth had been caught fn the toils of matrimony by the experienced artist, Clemintina De Bar, sister of the noted Ben De Bar, comedian and manager. This lady was a most versa- tile actress, but far from preposzessing of feature. Tiring of this incompatible al- liance, young Junius sought the freer at- mosphere of California with the Argonauts and carried with him young and handsome Harriet Mace, whom he soon made his wife. T saw Junius often and found him a sen- sible, upright, amiable man. He had not the least taint of the ecentrict that marked the father and other of his broth- ers. Nor was there much of the suspicion of the “divine fire” that gave the father, Edwin and Wilkes a claim to be classed with the immortals. Yet he was a good actor and had some suareme moments. He was a superb athlete and had few peers with either foil or broadsword. With the celebrated maitre, Col. Monstery, who had his salle d'armes at Frank Wheeler's gym- nasium in San Francisco, we had many a hot sault” with foil and sword, often winding up with a few rounds of the man- ly_art Junius Brutus Booth, jr. came east in his wife having died, leaving a daugh- 1s ter. He became lessee of the Boston Thi ater. He married Agnes Perry, a fine act- rers, relict of Harry Perry, an excellent actor, who died in California in 1861. Booth was not a successful manager any more than his brother Edwin. Later he leased Booth’s Theater on 23d street and 6th ave- nue, in New York. He failed to make the rent for the owners, so Edwin told me. Neither were good managers for them- selves, but art did not suffer. It was said that Edwin lost $500,000 in his theater. But in his time he earned over $1,500,000 as a player. The Beginnings of Edwin. Edwir. Booth had been in California for some years acting a wide range of charac- Edwin Booth as a Young Man. ters, excelling in negro dialect parts. He visited Australia in company with Laura Keere and his life-long friend, David C. Anderson, stopped at the Sandwich Islands on his way back to California, playing at San Francisco and Sacramento; with Hen- y, who was afterward editor of the ‘able, he was the chief player with Norton Sinclair, who had recent- ly won her divorce suit from Edwin For- rest. Forrest pursued every one who counte- nanced his wife with unreasoning virulence. He never forgave Edwin Booth for having played with her. Edwin had just finished a tour of the mining towns and closed his engagement at Sacramento preparatory to embarking for the eastern states, under contract to Ben Baker, to begin his career 4s a star to fill the void left by his father's death. 1 followed his engagement at the Forrest Theater, where Junius and his wife were principal players. Edwin Booth had been in California so long a time and had ap- peared so often, that notwit iding his personal popularity, even this, his last en- gagercent, had not yielded him an adequate sum to bezin his journey east. A few of his friends rallied again and asked me to give up one of my nights for a parting benefit to the young star and to participate In the performar This 1 was most happy to Go, although I had never met Edwin. On the evening of the day on which this mat- ter had been so pleasantly arranged, I heard a knock at my dressing room door. I was in the act of changing my dress for the last act of “Ingomar.” A siender, graceful form slipped into the room. A pair of luminous eyes shone out from a beautiful oriental face ilumined by as sweet a smile as ever came from a finely chiseled mouth. A hand was extended, which met with a firm and cordial grij Only the brief simple words “Thank you, came from his lips, and he disappeared. Edwin’s Success in Iago. I played Othello to his Iago, and the house was packed. In his performance of this subtle part I saw then the budding fame that was to flower into a brilliant and pros- perous career. And so began a friendship that only ended with his untimely death. He was not ungrateful, for during one of his brilliant engagements at the St. Charles Theater, New Orleans, he volun- teered for my benefit, and, of course, crew a tremendous audience, I acting Richmond to his Richard III. We acted together often in the south and west, but only once in New York, and that for Ben Baker's benefit. The play was “Othello,” and I was terribly frightened, as I had never acted so great a part as the Moor in the metropolis. Here the sweetness of Booth’s nature was again manifest, for words of encouragement came from him at the end of the great scene in the third act, when the audience summoned us before the curtain. We also appeared together at the theater in Boston. That able manager, ‘Thomas Barry, was the lessee. Here he be- gan to show some of his eccentric habits that marred the career of his father. On one of these nights the American tragedian, Edwin Forrest, was sitting far back in a private box. He was on a visit to his friend James Oakes, the “Acorn” of the New York Spirit of the Times. Oakes told me afterward that the only comment Forrest made on his prospective rival was, “Why don’t the young man learn his linesT” As Edwin had imbibed most of his father’ great characters by ear in the theater, he did not trouble himself with the midnight oll. But now, as recognition of his fine powers came to him, he felt forced to con- tend for mastery with the holder of the dramatic crown. The fault that was toler- ated and condoned in his father couldn't be overlcoked in this promising son. Edwin himself began to perceive that the time had ceme to chasten and curtail the Bacchio ebullitions that destroyed his great father, if he expected to reach the height on which the master sat supreme. Edwin Forrest still held the scepter, and was in the very zentth of his great powers when the daring young actor made his gallant attack on the intellectual world by his ideal presentation of Hamlet at the Winter Garden in New York. I saw him quite often during the hundred-night run of this play. Becees | cne day he said: “I understand you act Charles de Moor in German in San Fran- cisco. I intend to visit Germany some day and should like to play Hamlet in that language.” He Acted in Germany. He acquired this notion from the fact that he had acted Iago to the Othello of the distinguished German actor, Bogomil Daneson, who spoke the part of the Moor in German. Mme. Scheller spoke the part of Desdemona in both languages. As I was then to appear in German as Othello with her at the Stadt Theater, our conver- sation naturally flowed in that direction. He did go to Germany, although he stuck to his own vernacular, surrounded by Ger- man players, who were his greatest ad- mirers. Ovations greeted him everywhere, the actors crowning him with laurel. His triumphs there and his brilliant associa- tion with Irving at the Lyceum Theater, London, are matters of record. His splen- did career in this country has furnished themes for many loving poetic pens. In the winter of 1858-9 I was in ti- more acting with Avonia Jones, who later married the tragedian, Gustavus V.Brooks, in Australia. Avonia and Mary Devlin were very intimate. Edwin was then at home laying desperate siege to the sus- ceptible Mary, who was a cheery, bright and pretty girl. We were all young then, and exchanged the secrets of lovers. I dined with him at his modest home, and met his stately mother and accomplished sisters, Asia and Rosalie. Asia afterward married John Sleeper Clarke, the comedian, and settled in London. Edwin took me out to Greenmount cemetery, where he had placed a noble granite shaft over the grave of his father, with the simple in- Junius Brutus Booth, Jr. scription, “Booth,” on one side, and on the other the family motto, “Dum spiro spiro.” I have known him in every relation of life: with his fellow players he was ever considerate, courteous and kind. As. a son, in his household showing deference and affection to his amlabie mother and cultured sisters. He was chivalric and true, both as lover and husband. Once only can I rerember having seen him roused to anger, giving vent in strong terms to his outraged sense of justice. It was after the death of his second wife, Mary Mc or rather, ¥ Runnion, for she w: James McVicker's child) He had been eas: managed through his affectionate, diffident nature, while this extraordinarily gifted being lived; but when death severed the tie that held his loyal soul, their greed of gain became too manifest; they crowded him too far, and he asserted his manhood. There never was a sweeter, gentler nature than that which inhabited the mortal tene- ment called Edwin Booth. His charities were many, but secret. Few knew that within a short time of his death he bought an annuity for the aged actor, Ed- mon S. Connor. His reverence for his noble art and his high view of the actors’ calling is gloriously exemplified by the munificent endowment of the Players’ Club in Grammercy Park, so lovingly ac- complishe: ler the intelligent guidance of thos tive spirits and constant friends and compan’ William Bispham, Chas. E. Carry], Lawrence Hutton, E. C. Bene- dict and Thomas Bailey Aldrich. John Wilkes Booth. John Wilkes Booth I first met in the sum- mer of 1858. It was in a billlard room next to Grace Church, managed by Michael Phelan, then the champion of the cue. We played several games; he was an expert. Indeed, he excelled in all athletic sports. Like his brother “June,” he was a master of fence. I was struck with his movements of alluring, springy grace. classic Booth head s easy The t above broad should- ers and deep chest. Taller than any of the other Booths, his frame was compactly knit and instilled with Ife in every fiber. He was then engaged to Matt Canning to go to Montgomery, Ala., to take his initia- tion in the great roles that made his father famous, and in which Edwin was now forg- ing ahead for first place in the dramatic arena. I did not see him again until the winter of 1865. He was then a full-fledged star in some of his father’s parts, and had made his mark in the south and west. But sud- denly his voice failed. He was compelled to remain idle, his time being passed ly in Washington. From there he easily run over to Bel Air, the home family in Maryland. He was a gre vorite In Washington society; his talent as an actor, beauty of person and engaging manners made him a welcome guest in any company. The men were charmed and the women fascinated. It wasesald that the handsome and witty daughter of a cer- tain famous senator was greatly in love with him, and it was soon rumored that their engagement was shortly to be an- nounced, when Booth’s terrible crime put an end to the romantic episode. The peculiar teaching, or rather lack of teaching, of the head of the Booth family, and the vagaries of that extraordinary man, found perhaps greater expression in John Wilkes than in any other of the chil- dren. Raised in this wild and free way, without the restraint of proper parental influence in the father, and surrounded by the atmosphere of a so-called chivalry which then had greager expression in Maryland than any othef southern state, it is perhaps not so surprising after all that young Wilkes became imbued with the same ideas of our government that im- pelled the great spirits of tho south to rebel. As I have said, he had access to all circles in the capital. The departments were honeycombed with southern sympa- thizers. Everything was ripe for a con- spiracy. The loss of his voice made him brood. The prospect of fame as an actor seemed to be passing from him. His brother Edwin had the fleld. He must do something to Impress himself upon man- kind and leave a name. In Richard he had often spoken the lines, “‘The aspiring youth that fired the Ephesian dome outlives in fame the pious fool that raised it.” Before Lincoln's Death. ‘That was better than no fame at all. It was at this time I saw him again at the Metropolitan Hotel in New York. I was acting in the “Corsican Brothers” at Niblo’s. He saw the duel scene and spoke about it next day. I rermembered after- ward his eyeing me from head to foot, say- ing, “You handle a sword pretty well. I replied: “I have had many about with both of your brothers,and especially with ‘June, who is a master." “How long is your en- gagement?” he inquired. “A month longer, said I. He paused, eyeing me curiously, surveying me from head to foot. “When you are through here,” said he, run down to Washington. I have some en- terprises on hand that may interest you; I'll give you a good time, and if you fall in with my ideas, we'll make a fortune.” IE asked him why he did not act. “Oh, ‘my ‘take a voice is in bad shape; besides, I must look after my coal and oil lands. I have bought near Clevel: . Ohio.” We shook hands cordially and red. Two months Igter, after midnight on the morning of April 14, 1865, when going to my room, I heyrd the newsboys cry: “Ex- tra! Extra!’ “Booth had shot PreSident Lincoln. -Exctted and maddened crowds surged through.the streets. No one would believe that a Booth could be guilty of such an unspeakable crime. Remembering the conversation with Wilkes on the steps of the Metropolitan Hotel, I said to myself: “It is true.” No language can give expres- sion to the detestation of the crime that took the life of the greatest man America has produced.” Yet Wilkes Booth was no hired assassin’s The spirit of exaltation that made hinp-exclaim as he leaped upon thé stage after the fatal shot “Sic semper tyrannis!” was:But the natural outcome of the distemper:that lay in the blood of an ill-regulated mind in the father, which skipped the other children and lodged in the: superficial~brain of the mad Wilkes. CHARLES POPE. ee MR. RAT OF RENO COUNTY. Populist Statesmen Make Merry Over His Request for a New Name. From the Topeka State Journal. A to-be-pitied individual, residing some- where in Reno county, whose ancestors by some malicious streak of fortune became pessessed of the surname Rat, and care- fully handed it down unchanged from gen- eration to generation, succeeded in having a bill introduced in the present house of representatives asking that he be allowed by law to establish a new family name. The m.embers of the house, realizing the man’s unfortunate plight, cheerfully acceded to the request and passed the bill, but when it reached the senate Saturday afternoon it met an entirely different fate. Not only did the members of that body ruthlessly siaughter the bill, leaving Mr. Rat to con- tirue living with a name which is undoubt- edly the bane of his life, but they also took the opportunity of having fun at Mr. Rat's expense. The bill came up under the consideratioa of local measures, and was at once opposed by Senator Farrelly, who stated that the senate had decided not to change any names, and had turned down bills of a sim- ilar nature, and that no exceptions to the rule should be made. He was followed by Senator Hessin, who said: “I know the rule of this body has been not to act favorably on measures of this kind, but if there was ever an exception I think we have reached it in this case. I think that we should not only grant this man’s request, but should also give him a name, and [| therefore offer as an amend- ment that the word ‘hole’ be attached to the name ‘Rat.’ " Senator Farrelly—‘As an amendment to the amendment, I ask that the amendment be laid under the table.” Senator Hessin—‘As an amendment to the amendment to the amendment, I want the man who proposed it to be laid under the table with my amendment.” Senator Jumper—‘I move that the amend- ment to the amendment to the amendment, and the men who propcsed the amen Imenis, be all stuffed in the hole together.” With all the fun, nobody said anything that even approached second-class wit. Some member finally moved that the bill be recommended not to be passed. This motion carried, and Mr. Rat will be com- pelled to elther bear up under his load for at least two vears longer, cr apply to the district court in his county to give him the relief he wants. The latter is the shortest and most satisfactory way to manage such matters, and the legislature is justified in not paying attention to bills to change names. ee CABIN IN WHICH LINCOLN WAS BORN It Was Torn Down and Then Again Rebuilt. George H. Yenowine tn St. Nichol: ‘Twelve years ago the cabin in which Lincoln was born was torn down, and the logs were hauled to an adjoining farm, and used in the construction of another house. The old farm had practically been abandoned, and nearly all the people in the neighvorhood had quite forgotten, a second time within & deéade since the death of Lincoln, that he was born on the “Lincoln Spring farm,” as ihe place has always been ealled. The Lincoin birthplace 4s fifty-four miles scutheast of Louisville. It can be reached from Louisville by going to Eliza- bethtown, in ‘Hardin county, a distance of ferty-two miles, and then taking another road from Elizabethtown to Hodgensville, a ride of twelve miles. The Lincoln Spring farm is three miles from this quaint old town, on Nolin’s creek, directly on the pub- lic road leading from Hodgensville to Bue falo, a village six miles to the east. It is a pleasant twenty minutes’ drive over a gcod dirt road, through a poor, but inter- ng country. original Lincoln cabin had been torn down, and the materials had been moved away, as stated, by a man named Tom Davenport, who used the logs in his own rouse. A. W. Dennett, a New York gentleman, not long ago bought the Davenport house, recovered the logs, and, after much diffi: cult ored the cabin cxactly as it was originally, using the very same timbers, door, window and frames. It occupies the former site, and is in much the same con- dition as it was when the Linculns ieft it. The cabin Is eighteen feet long, sixi>-n teet wide and about twelve feet high, counting from the floor to the ridge pole. There is only one door and one window—the latter an opering twenty inches square. A large open fireplace, built in the most primitive way, occupies nearly the whole of one end of the cabin. The chimney is made of small logs, placed together just as log houses are built. Inside of it, flat stones placed on-the ground made the hearth, and wide flat stones placed against the’ logs kept the fire within bounds and protected the wooden chimney. The inside, from the hearthstones to the top of the chimney, was thickly daubed with clay. The chim- ney reaches only half way to the roof of the house, and is rounded off with small sticks. This simple fireplace furnished most of the light, al! of the heat, and the sole means for cooking the meals for the family. The cabin did not have even a loft, or second story, as have most cabins. It was built by Thomas Lincoln, father of the President, some time about 1804 or 1805, and was entirely constructed with an ax and saw, the simple tools of the pioneer: The clapboard roof was anchored Gown by small logs, laid lengthwise on top of the rows of oak boards. There were ro nails or hardware. The door hinges were of wood, and the paneless windows had an in- side board shutter, held in place by raw- hide thongs. There were chinks and mud between the logs, and the puncheon flcor was pegged down. It Is probable ‘hat af- ter Abraham ‘Lincoln's grandfather was killed by the Indians at Long Run ‘necting house, in Jefferson county, Ky., the ramily went further into the forest, and took up a section of land in La Rue, then part of Hardin county. Later, to better his for- tune, Thomas Lincoln left this farm on Nolin’s creek, and settled on Knob creek, a dozen miles from Hodgensville, and from there he went to Indiana, and later to Illi- nols. It matters little: what it is that you want —whether a situation or a servant—a “want” ad. in The Star will reach the person who can fill your need. ——— Ah Opal. A rose of fire shijt ina vell of snow, An an gleayr athwart a misted sky: A Jewel—a soul! gazé deep if thou woulds: know The flame-wronght spell of its pale witchery. And now eaeh tremulous beauty les revealed ‘And now the drifted snow doth beanty shield. So my shy love, anesth her kerchlef white, Hoideth the as of the East in fee; Warm Purltan—who fears her own delight, Who trembleth over that she yleldeth me. And now her lps her heart's rich tame have And now ‘they pale that they have been so bold, =EDNAH PROCTOR CLARKE. The Fate of the New Woman. Mother—‘Why; that's .ms portrait before you children were born. MONEY IN FARMING Hopeful Views of the New Secretary of Agriculture. HIS OWN EXPERIENCE IN l0WA Our Big Corn Crop and How to Make It Pay. EXPERIMENT STATIONS (Copyrighted. 1897, by Frank G. Carpenter.) Written for The Evening Star. NE OF THE MOST important members of President McKin- ley’s cabinet is the nf Secretary of Agricul- iit ture. He has to do ki with the bettering of the farming inter- ests of the United 'y States, which are ‘A-* sald to bein a worse ondition today than hey have been at “any time since Cap- . tain John Smith’ colony went tui:vugh the terrible priva- tions of the “starving time” at James- town in the first half of the seventeenth century. Heretofore the republican ma- Jorities of Ohio, Indiana and Illinois have come from the farmers, but at the last election McKinley was saved by the vote of the cities. The future of the present regime depends upon making things bet- ter for the farmers. They are, in fact, the ruling class of the United States. There are more of them than of any other pro- fession. By the last census forty-four out of every hundred persons in the United States were engaged in agricultural pur- suits. We have today in the neighborhood of 5,000,000 farms, which are worth, all told, more than thirteen billion dollars. We make a profit in good years of some- thing like two billiorf dollars out of farm products, and it is upon the farms that we depend to a large extent for good or bad times. If the farmers are doing well money flows like water, and the sun of prosperity shines. When they are doing ill the dark clouds of discontent breed an- archy, socialism and false financial theories, and adversity reigns. The Boss of All the Farmers. You will thus see that the Secretary of Agriculture tg now a very important fac- tor. Who is the man that McKinley has chosen? What kind of a man is he? What is he going to do? I can answer these ques- tions in part in the chat which I had with Secretary James Wilson at the Agricul:ural Department today. I had a letter of intro- duction to the new Secretary from Senator W. B. Allison, and as soon as my card was sen. in I was admitied. A tall, angular, plain-looking man of about sixty years of age began to get up as I entered the door. By the time I had reached his desk he was on his feet. His long right arm was stretch- ed out toward mine and his horny hand gave me a cordialgpld-fashioned shake. It was James Wilson, the new Secretary of Agriculture, the man who is known all over the west as one of the best farmers of the Mississippi valley, and who is noted among agriculturists everywhere as being one of the most practical, up-to-date authorities upon everything connected with farming. He asked me to be seated and for an hour we chatted together about himself, the American farmer and what Uncle Sam might do for him. Mr. Wilson is a good talker. His voice is slightly metallic and his words come out at the rate of about two hundred per minute. He has as many homeiy expressions as had Abraham Lin- coln and his talk is as full of ideas as an egg is full of meat. He 1s a well-educated man, and once or twice in speaking of his heme in Scotland he quoted passages trom Burns, giving the broad Scotch as it was used by the poet who composed some of his verses as he followed the plow on his farm, not far from that upon which Secre- tary Wilson was born. From time to time as we talked the clerks would bring in pa- pers and letters for the Secretary's advice or signature, and I could see how rapidly and how carefully Mr. Wilson handled Ifts business. He was not at all disturbed by the interruptions, and I noticed that he followed each letter line by line with his finger before he put his signature to it. I saw several other instances of his careful business ways. At one period in the con- versation a clerk brought in a requisition for a horse. As he laid it down before the Secretary he said that the horse which this new animal was to displace had been in the service of the department twenty-four years and that this warrant authorized one of the clerks to go up to Virginia and buy another. “Who is the man who is to do the buy- ing?” asked the Secretary. “He Is the assistant veterinary of the department,” was the rep! “Well,” said the Secretary, “send him in. I want to see what he knows about a horse before I send him out to buy one.” How He Learned Farming. During my chat with Secretary Wilson I asked him how he came to know anything abcut farming. He replied: “I was born a farmer, and I was brought up amid the traditions of the farm. My an- cestors for generations have made their living by tilling the soll. I was born near Ayr, Scotland. My father wanted to come to America before he was married, but his parents would not let him. The journey to America then was about as much of an un- dertaking as a trip to the moon would be today. So father settled down upon the farm in Scotland. There I was born and there [ lived until T was sixteen. Then we all: came to America. We settled first in Con- necticut and farmed near Norwich. About three years later my father got the western fever, and we moved out to Iowa. Iowa was at that time far west. We came there ten years in advance of the railroad. Fath- er entered some land, and I worked with him three years, when I took up some land of my own. Weil, I have been farming from that day to this.” “But, Mr. Secretary,” said I, “what kind of a farmer are you? Uncle Jerry Rusk, when he was Secretary of Agriculture, told me that part of his life he had been a farmer and part of it an agriculturist. I asked him what he meant by that, and he said that the farmer was the man who made money by farming, but that the agri- culturist was the man who spent lots of money on experiments, but usually came out behind.” replied the Secretary, with a ‘and another definition of the two : ‘The farmer farms the farm, but the agriculturist farms the farmer.’ Well, I don’t know what you might call me. I believe in practical scientific farming. I have made money in farming. Az least I have made my farm. I had nothing when I started, and I have now a farm of a thousand acres and a good one.” “How much is land worth in Iowa?” “It depends on the land,” was the reply. “Within the past two years I have paid as high as $62 an acre for land. Plenty of our land is worth $75 an acre, and almost everywhere in Iowa farm lands are worth as high as $40 per acre.” Money in Farming. “But,Mr. Secretary,can the farmers make money out of land at such prices? Is there any money in farming, and would you ad- vise a young man to go Into it to make money?” “The most of our farmers in Towa are making money,” replied Mr. Wilson. “If your young man is the right kind of a young man, if he has a liking for farming and has enough business sense to farm rightly, he can do well. In buying a farm, however, he should go out to look at the land with a spade in his hand, and should know that some kinds of land are hardly cheap at any price. He should study the soil and the markets, and become a farm- ing manufacturer instead of a mere raiser of raw materials for other people to make money out of them.” “What do you mean by that, Mr. Secre- tary?” said I. “I mean just what I say,” replied Mr. Wilson. “It is the farm manufacturers who are making the money today. It is the men who are taking their raw mate- rials and turning them into meat and sell- ing the meat who are making the money. It is the fellows who are selling the grain who are losing. Take my region! I lve in the greatest corn belt on the globe. professor We raise millions upon millions of bushels of Indian corn. There are six states, in- cluding Iowa, which produce over a bil- lion bushels of shelled corn every year. The price of this corn if sold is only 13 cents a bushel. If you turn it into meat it will bring you 40 cents a bushel. That is the difference between good and bad farming. It is the difference between 18 cents and 40 cents, the difference between a big profit and a big loss. The poor farm- er selis his grain and keeps poor, the good farmer turns {t into meat and dairy pro- ducts and gets rich. Look at it! The corn is worth 13 cents a bushel in Iowa. It is shipped east and it is sold for 25 cents a bushel to a man there who turns it into meat and makes a profit, or it may even go across the Atlantic and be turned into meat by one of the farmers in England, who will y 7% cents a bushel for it. Tkink of the chance that the farmer who raises it has to make money over the others.”” “I suppose that is the kind of farming “I have been you do, Mr. Secretary “Yes,” was the reply. raising corn for more than forty years and I have never sold a bushel. I raise hegs and stock and I feed all the grain that I make.” Fool Expenditures. “Speaking of Europe, Mr. Secretary, what do you think of that country as a market for our corn. Secretary Rusk, you know, sent an agent into Europe to intro- duce it there. They nicknamed him Corn Meal Murphy. Mr. Murphy estimated that we could easily increase the value of our corn crop at least one hundred million dollars a year by the foreign demand?” “That ts all imagination!” replied Secre- tary Wilson. “I don't believe a word of it. ‘The European farmers don’t want our corn They know that corn is very poor in nitro- genous matter. It does not make good manure. The percentage of nitrogen in corn is only about 1 to 10, while flax seed and cotton seed meal are almost half nitro- gen. The European farmers have to have food that will enrich their lands. So they import the refuse of our ofl mills by the thousands of tons. Did you ever realize that we are the great paint users of the globe? We use more paint than any other People, and we import quantities of flax seed from India and other countries to make linseed ofl. Much of the refuse of this seed goes to Europe. The farmers there understand its value, and we, who ought to keep it, let it go. We, on the other hard, import nothing from Europe at adds to our material wealth. One of our chief imports, for instance, is sugar. This is largely made up of starch. Now, the starchy elements of plants come from the air. Sugar is not good for manure. You might cover a field two feet deep with sugar and it would not raise a crop. Swill we pay other countries more than a hun- dred miition dollars a year for it. It is prac- tically paying a hundred million dollars a year for air. Think of it!” He Believes Beet Sugar. “Why can’t we prevent that, Mr. Secre- tary, by raising our own sugar?” “We can,” replied Secretary Wilson, “and I have already taken steps to encourage the growth of the sugar beet in this coun- try. We are now sending out beet seed to different parts of the Mississippi valley. There is no doubt but that we can raise the sugar beet, and we ought to make all of our own sugar. We are now paying $125,000,000 a year to other countries for this product. We get a vast amount of beet sugar from Germany, and a great deal of cane sugar from Cuba. I believe the time will come when we will raise all we need.” “You were speaking of Germany, Mr. Sec- retary,” said I. Are the Germans to he allowed to discriminate against our meat products without cause as they have in the past? “No,” was the reply, “we shall stop that, I think. We have already begun move- ments toward that end. We have given orders through the Treasury Department that no meat shall be allowed to go out of this country that has not been inspected by the agents of this department. Every plece of meat that is carried abroad will have a certificate of inspection. If the Germans discriminate against such meat they must show the reason why, and if they cannot, there will certainly be a dis- crimination against them as to the things which they send to this country. This mat- ter of foreign trade is a business matter. If the Germans will not treat us fairly we can easily retaliate. We import something Uke ninety-odd million of dollars’ worth of goods from Germany every year, though the balance of trade last year was a little in our favor.” “Mr. Secretary,” said I, “you have been connected with the Iowa Agricultural Col- lege. Are such colleges doing very much good?” “Yes, indeed, they are,” was the reply. “They are making better farmers. The suc- cessful farmer of the future Is to be an educated farmer. My boys went to the agricultural college, and they are now on farms and are doing well. You can see what I think of farming by the fact that I trained my boys for it, and that they in- tend to make it their life work. Farm Lands as an Investment. “Do you consider farm lands a good in- vestment, Mr. Secretary?” “Yes, I believe that they will rise in value. We have a vast population. It is steadily growirg. The world will always need food, snd we have some of the best food lands on the globe. The Mississ!pp! basin alone could feed 100,000,000, and this is only a small part of our good soil. We are already the greatest manufacturing na- tion of the globe, and our mineral re- sources are such that we will ultimately bave an enormous manufacturing popula- tion, and the supplying of food for this will create a great demand for farm products, and land will grow more valuable as the country fills up.” “Are the farms of the future to be small or large?” “They will probably become smaller as the pcpulation grows.” i “Will our farmers ever live in villages, as the farmers cf Germany do?” “No, I think not,” replied Secretary Wil- son. “I look for the railroads to travel among the farms, and for electricity or some other motive power to carry the far- mer and his prodvcts to and from the mar- kets. Rapid transit will bring the farmers sufficiently together. I don’t think we will ever have the socialism of Germany among ur farmers.” onWhat is the cause of the disaffection among the farmers today?” “The low prices of farm products is one of the causes,” sald Secretary Wilson. “This, added to the lack of knowledge of how to make the most of their opporiun- ities, is keeping many of our farmers poor. I don’t think the farmers are badly off to- day. These who are in straits are larzel men who have begun farming without cap- ital, and who have not mixed th: manure with brains and economy. There are thou- sands of farmers in my state today who are making money and there are thousands who will continue to do s Uncle Sam’s Farm News Syndicate. “How do you like being Secretary of Agriculture, Mr. Wilson, and what do you expect to do here?” “I can’t answer that just yet,” replied the Secretary. “I am still like a cat in a strange garret, and I do not know all of the holes and corners. I believe, however, that there is much to be done, and that we can accomplish considerable by going to work in the right way. There is a rev- oluticn going on in our farming methods. Slipshod farming will have to pass away and the farmer of the future will put in his licks where they will do the most good. LOST APPETITE. COULD NOT EAT THE MOST TEMPTING DISHES. From the Loafer, Cleveland, Ohio. For the restoration of am appetite which bas been impatred or lost through sickness, po remedy can compare in effectiveness with Dr, Williams Pink Ville for Paie People. This « ut ie substantiated by the experience apd declarations of men and women with whom these pills have become a hous-hold medicine. Amoug the niany who cho offer testimony to this particular prop erty of Dr. Williams’ Pink ills is ee Ma shall, Jr., who lives ut No. 19 Norwil Strect, Cleveland, Ohio. Mr. Marsiiall is a news ageut on the Luke Shore and Michigan Soutbern Ratiroad, and his wks from Cle Like thom ‘ who ov and vigor to Dr. Wil Pink shall never hesitates to sing their pc case It tas uecessary to use only a the pills to restore him to the full pw bodily th, His digestive organs ad be almost useless throuzh ® long and serivas but in a surpeisit ried period, agency of ths wonderful medicine capable of again performing t regular and pesfectly satinta narrating Mis experience with them Mr. Marshall said: “Last spring I was taken sick with inflamma tory rheumatism, and my entire Rystem Was aifoct ed. To relieve ‘the suffering It Was ne oar paint me With jodine. Atter three montis’ trea cnent T became convaiescent, but the attack Lad 4 my strength aud Jett me extremely weak and feeble. 1 could scarcely lift an arm or a lex. This Weakness perm-nied my entire and applied 9s well tom “ive Apparatus as to my Limbs. 1 soon discovered that 1 had lost appetite almost as letely ae though I never had one. I had mo desire what ever to partake of any pourishment, and the hatural result was that convalescence Wal extremely siow, and my pare er a relapse »n account Of ts feared 1 ‘or fall prey to a» short of ii m their > try them. re I! now, for 1 teat three or f ts not ms’ Pink ¥ and they will It That is it fort their “Tost restore shattered trout les pecu! (never in boxes or direc Company, Se What we want to do Is to show him where to strike.” “We are trying to learn this by means of the experiment stations, which are lo- cated ail over the country. Then men at | these stations are studying ihe soils, the | climate and the crops most profitably j adapted to their region. They are sending out valuable putli ns giving the results ot experiments, and advice to the farmers in regard to different matters. I want to s these ball ns go > ry farmer who needs them, and T have al- ready organized a system to get them in | to the hands cf the right people. We have already a list of a hundred thousand names and we will soon have a million, We svirg to form a syndicate of farm for the farmers. It will be Uncle Sam's syncicate, and it will not cost the tarm- ers a cent. We will make the different states do their share in the work propose to push matte and to give out ever learn cn how to farm Excitement the United Stat Howe Over niles’ Journal. “It is difficult to understand, at this late day, what a furore of excitement passed over this country when Lafayette arrived once more in America. The visit is an his- toric event to be remen red while mem- ory endures, During President Monroe's second administration the United States extended its invitation to Lafayette. He arrived at Staten Island on August 15 (Sun- day), 1824, accompanied by his ore Washington Lafayette, and also by his son-in-law. A formal reception took place on the following day—the first fruits ¢ most abundant harvest of weleome whi Lafayette was to receive during his y a years light h that of Burns had a high , Jong, aquiline nose, and a rather thin face. His hair was sandy and quite plentiful. His eyes were dark gray, restless and twinkling brows, light in color, but heavily ed. His mouth was firm, and his lps our- teously at the holiday crowd assembled to do him honor. The general was n¢ tall, but well made. His face was dis j ly pleasant, and its expressi mixture of shrewdnes: good humor. His costum: tailed coat and trousers of dark brown, with a great display of white waistcoat and neckcloth. A bunch of seals hung from a broad black ribbon at his waist. Over his shoulders hung a cloth riding cloak, green- ish blue in color and lined with red.” - see — The Good Things. We used to bay fashioned things, ke homing and greens, We used to have just common soup made out of pork and bean But gow it's omme, and things male from a hook, tlien, And Pot an Feu Julienne, since my daughter's learned to cook: We used to have @ piece of beef just onlinary meat ” feet, spare ribs, too, ond other S 1's fillet and ragout, and leg of sutton And macaroni au gratin, and sheep's head Hollan- ©, daised The good old things have passed away, In silent, t 5 high-falutin’ things, but nothing much to eat, And while i never say a word, and always pleasant look, You bet Tye had dyspepsia since my dane learned to cook. Result of Environment. From the Detroit Free Press. “Why that man was always a cra woman hater,” sneered the young from Chicago. “That was before he had met our De- troit girls,” smiled Miss Cadillac. “He ad- mits hi up in Chicago. DILUVIAN SPORT—A CLOSE FI From Life. =