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About The Sunday Oregonian. (Portland, Ore.) 1881-current | View Entire Issue (March 20, 1910)
THE SUNDAY OREGOXIAN. PORTLAND, MARCH 20, 1910. Ml 3 TkSl mWYxmmrcmmmi OF THE WORLD of CHAPTER I. 6om Kigrbttne- That the Jeffries Family Did Before Mr Time. HERE at the start I want to say that I am an American all the way through. I was born In America, and so were all of my fore fathers for two full centuries ahead of toe. Being an American, I don't care a rap for titles or heraldry. A man is just what he makes of himself, and nothing else counts. That's why I've never given out before a few' private details of the Jeffries family history that I'm going to set down here. I've always been a great book reader. When I was a youngster I used to hide a candle under my bed in my own room and light it as soon as I was left alone, and melt the bottom end and stick it on my bedpost. Then I'd lie in bed reading until the birds began stirring in the branches outside my window in the early morning. In those days I never thought of writing a book my sulf. For that reason I never made a note of the things I've read about the Jeffries family In my father's old books, or of the stories I've heard him telL But the most Interesting things, I think, still stick in my memory. The original stock of the Jeffries family was Scandinavian or Norse Vik ing. It has been traced back to Nor mandy in the year 900, or just about there. In 1066 my ancestors went to England on a fighting trip with "Wil liam the Conqueror. The family name was spelled according to the owner's taste in those days. At first it was Godfrldus, then Godfrey, Godefrey, and Goeffrey. Later it went through new changes, Gaefferoy, Jefferey, JeeCEerrey, Jeffreys, Jeffray, Jeffris and Jeffries, with a few either variations. There is a tradition that a certain Geoffrey fought in the Crusades, and once saved the life of Richard Coeur de Lion, when he was attacked by a bear In the bills near the city of Jaffa, killing the bear with his sword. I never beard much about bear hunting in Palestine, but there must have been bears there In early days, or where did the bears come from that bothered the prophet Elijah? And If there was a bear in that country yoy could depend upon anybody connected with the Jef fries family to find it. This old Goeffrey may or may not have been an ancestor of mine, and I'll . urn i with m sioro not try to fill these pages with records extending back a thousand years. I'll start 'with the first of my family who came to America. He was Robert Jef fries, named after some Norman Eng lish ancestor away back in the year 110S. whose name was spelled Rolf Godefroy. This Robert Jeffries was born in "Wiltshire, England, in 1656. His father was John Jeffries of "Wiltshire. England, a country gentleman and landed proprietor, whose family traced its descent directly back to the tenth century, and a cousin of Judge George Jeffreys (or Jeffereys or Jeffries), Baron of Wem. Chief Justice of Eng land under King Charles II., and Lord Chancellor under James II., who died a prisoner in the Tower of London in 1689. He was a terror and took de light In condemning people to death or torture in batches of a dozen at a time. Robert Jeffries came to America in the year 1681 and settled at Uplands, now Chester, Pa., where he died in 1739, leav ing a large family. Several of his sons afterward moved to Virginia, where they became large plantation-owners. and slave-holders and took part in the aris tocratic pleasures of the times. They fought bravely through the Revolution and the "War of 1S12, and when things were dull did a little Indian fighting and a lot of hunting in the wilds. It has always been the pride of the Jeffries family that no Jeffries has ever been known to break his word. My great grandfather. "William Jeffries, sacrificed bis whole fortune to save his honor. He was a planter, living on a splendid plan tation at the head of the Shenandoah Valley. He had several hnudred broad acres of the finest land in Virginia and 80 slaves lived in the quarters. He was not of a sporting turn blmself, but most f the young Virginians around him were reckless young bloods, who con sidered it rather a point of pride to sramble large sums on horse races. One THE JAPANESE SCHOOLBOY Wash, D. C. To Editor The Oregonian who knows how peculiar it is to act natural. Dear Mr. Sir: National Press Club of America, fam ous reporting organization located in this location, took a recent night off from their literary energy and gave a Hobby Horse Party. Hon. ' Jo-Uncle Cannon was invited and I wasn't. This made the party an insured success. Howeverly, me & Cousin Nogl was enabled to debut in secretly behind the ice-cream freezer; so we was unavoid ably there and seen what was. This Hobby Horse Game is played in follow ing excited manner: Some famous gentleman who is there is given two or three drinks of stimulus, then he is told, "Arise upward, please, and tell us what Hobby-Horse is most pleasant for your rpind to ride on." So Hon. Great Man arouses to his feet and talks about himself for 38 minutes. What Politician could be unhappy while doing this? . Hon. Jo-Uncle uprose without a coax. "For many annual years I have owned and loved a Hobby Horse," he say. "Name of this famous wooden animal la pat. Ha Is not much of a racer, but . tie- la a-fiiis atander. When 3 lead, this of these cavaliers got heavily Into debt and asked William Jeffries to go his surety for $90,000, which was an enor mous sum In those days. My great grandfather gave his word to do so. The young Virginian could not pay, and my ancestor felt himself bound in honor to make the amount good, although he could easily have slipped out of it. With the resolution of an o'd Roman he sold his great plantation, put his slaves up at auction, paid the other man's debt and started life over again. His wife, brokenhearted at the disaster and crushed at parting with the old slaves that had long been In the family, died. "All is lost save honor," said my great i M?V" ... : ' .J JSCAV! BH A ORE! grandfather grimly. He got a big wagon and six horses, and with little else but his rifle, trekked out into what was then the wilderness with his moth erless children. After terrible hard ships he settled In Fairfield County, Ohio. It was a wild country then. He cleared away the virgin forest to make his farm. He married again, after a time, and reared many children out there on the frontier. His oldest son, who had acquired a little education in Virginia in the prosperous days, was regarded with awe by the frontiersmen. He could keep books, and it was told as a sort of legend around that country that he could write a whole volume without making a tingle blot. My own grandfather, James Jeffries, for whom I was named, was one of the children who made the journey from Virginia in the six-horse prairie schooner. He was born across fhe street from old Culpeper Count House at Culpeper, Virginia, and was eight ' years old when the family wen.t to Ohio. He wasn't a scholar like his older brother, but even among the husky bordermen of his day he was renowned for his prodigious strength. "When he was six years old he could drive a four-horse team. When he grew up he was six feet and two Inches tall and weighed 220 pounds, and no one In all that country could equal his feats of lifting. He was noted, too. for the fact that he never drank, smoked, swore or lied in his life. He was In great demand for setting the heavy logs when the settlers met to build cabins for each other in the friendly way of that day. His favorite sport was wrestling, and no man In his part of the country could throw him. He was the acknowledged champion. Father says that his fists were much larger than mine. ' , My grandfather stayed on his father's farm until he was 24 when be married Mary Banadum, the daughter of another frontier farmer, and set up a home of his own. In their log cabin, 16 feet square, their 14 children were born. The fourth son received the highly romantic name, Alexis Cehon Jeffries. This was my father. He grew big and powerful like all the other men of the Jeffries family. When my father married he and his wife went 20 miles away from the old folks to a home of their own, on a' half cleared farm of 160 acres, not far from Carroll, Ohio. There they built a log cabin of two stories. My father was a devout churchgoer for many years, but finally turned evan gelist and preached In the open air, de claring that churcheB were a useless ex pense, and that the money 6pent on them should be devoted to the poor instead. I was born In the old log cabin on the Ohio farm, like my brothers and sisters. So I suppose, if I hadn't taken up fight ing as a profession I might have had as good a chance to become President of the United States as Abe Lincoln, James Garfield and other log-cabin men. On my mother's side I descend from the earliest Holland Dutch settlers In this country. My mother's home was In Boyertown, Pennsylvania, and her name was Rebecca Boyer. Her father was Christopher Boyer, and he was a strapping big fellow, too. He was a natural fighter," and they say that when he died, over 60 years ago. he car ried the scars of many a hard ring battle fought with bare fists. He was the champion of his partof Pennsylvania and fought for the fun of it. He was a mem ber of the militia. His homo was at the foot of the Blue Mountains, in the Schuylkill Valley. He used to attend ail the annual musters In Schuylkill and Berks counties. The musters were great occasions. Crowds came in from the country all around and everybody cele brated. One of the usual events was a fight for. the local championship. Some times the fighters were just surrounded by a ring of men. Sometimes a regular rope ring was erected and they fought on the turf in old London prizerlng style. My grandfather fought often, and if he was ever beaten I've never heard of it- He's still remembered by old timers in Pennsylvania. This ancestor of mine, had a lot of faithful animal into the House for a hard day's work, I always have the com fortable feeling that Pat will stay hitched to the Speaker's Desk where I hitched him- If he ever moves and he ain't showed any desire to move these 14 years then you will know that my Hobby has walked away and took me with him.'' (Slight 60bs by him). If this Pat horse should ever pass off to other hands, I hopes his new .Owner will treat him gently like I done. And It is my nightly prayer and daily petition that he will never be straddled by a Rough Rider. 'Tve owned poor Pat elnce '63; I've stood Pat and Pat's stood me. And when I am gone, if a statue fair You build to me on some public square, Picture me then as the Cast Iron Boss Still sitting pat on the Same Old Hoss." Hon. Gift Plnchot. a bright young man interested in the forestry business, nextly uprose and made soma words. "My Hobby Horse," he report, "is a (thoroughbred mammal of very highw strung temperature- I got him from the Roosevelt Stables. He is not a very tame horse. He is addicted by wild habits. I am 6ometlmea afraid that he is not even a good Republican therefore he will never act respectful to Party Whips. Kicking and biting are among his attractive traits. Already he has poked his heel through the Interior Kept and chewed om holes in. xhe Ad t B J?M Dutch obstinacy, and that's a good trait for a fighter. He was fond of getting Into an argu ment, and he had a peculiar system. In the first place he presented his side very clearly and carefully. If the other man contradicted him once he'd take it quiet ly and repeat his argument. But if he was contradicted the second time he let his fist fly without another word. As there were few who could stand up against him he always won his point. "If a man can't see the sense of a plain argument," he used to say. "there's no use in wasting words on him." I haven't any doubt that this obstinacy runs In the family, and I have my share of It. It Is a handy thing to have in a long battle. So I suppose fighting Is In my blood and I come by the fighting instinct naturally. At any rate having a few fighting . ancestors has always furnished me with a good argument and a good excuse at home. CHAPTER II. I Slake a. Good Start. WHEN I was born In the old log cabin at Carroll, Ohio, on the 15th of April, 1875, my fighting weight at the time was Just 14 pounds. My par ents were farming people, and they never suspected at the time that they were bringing up .a future world's champion of the ring. During the first year of my existence I developed a' habit of swinging my fists, and all my farmer relatives took this as a good sign and predicted that I'd be a wonder with a scythe when I grew up. My father, who had a leaning toward religion, agreed -that it was more the motion of pounding a pulpit, and that the early samples of my lung power Indicated a brilliant future as an exhorter. My mother always hoped that I'd be a good preacher like my father. To develop me gradually they started by making a strong, healthy farmer boy of me, my father" always contending that to round out a natural life a man should work hard until 40 years of age, and after that should turn to the cul tivation of the spirit. On this theory he has never given up hope for me, in spite of my ring career. I've always been grateful for the right kind of a start, for If I'd been brought up in a city like some boys, with no healthy and natural out-of-door life, I might not have been worth much as a fighter. I'm afraid that my parents appreciate this a little less than I do. On the night when I beat Tom Sharkey in San Francisco, a reporter for a Los An geles paper hired a horse and galloped out to our ranch. It was after mid night when he reached the house. Ring ing the bell, he aroused my mother, who went to a window to see what all the racket was about. Very much excited, the reporter told of my victory. "Well," said my mother. "I suppose my Jim will keep on fighting until he is beaten, but he's a good boy, and I know by that time he'll find a better profession." It was in 1881 that my father took his family to California, where we set tled on a ranch just outside the city of Los Angeles. Father built a fine 14-room house and laid out 97 acres of fruit trees. Our place was at Arroyo Secco Canyon. Arroyo Secco means Dry River. Old Spanish names are used all through Southern California, even now that the last traces of the old Spanish settlements are disappearing. .This was a grand home for us. There were were my two older sisters and one younger, Lizzie, Alameda and Lillie. and my brothers CaL John, Tom and Charlie (afterward known as "Jack.") We all lived In the big house, and great times we used to have. We all grew up out-of-door people that was one thing my father insisted upon all the time. He had learning enough for the whole family, and he didn't think schooling was the most Im portant thing In the world, although it is a good help for any boy. He used to say that to be happy a fellow must have perfect health. He was always tickled when we went out hunting and came back with some quail or small game. When I was a little fellow he supplied me with fishing tackle, and as soon as I was big enough to carry a gun he kept me in ammunition. I don't think any of us stunted our growth working on the ranch. When father went away to town In the morning I'THRtl TmjO CAT lAJ. HV he'd .send me out to do some work In the field. After a little while the sun would get . up and the sand would be pretty hot. Then I'd go back to the house and tell mother it was too hot to work. I'd explain that the sand was too hot to stand in barefooted, and I didn't want to wear my shoes. Then I'd get out my shotgun and stuff ministration. Also he has bucked me off from my Job and left me where I am. Howeverly, I admire the spirit of this steed, and expect him to behave less nervus when his Former Owner gets back." et -down for him. Hon. Doc Wiley, detective of Bad Eggs and Criminal Soup, looked very minus when require to make a toast on Hobby Horses. "In my Pure Food position," he re pelled, "I can have nothing to do with toasts, because they are usually very Impure. You also ask me to mention my favorite Hobby Horse. I haven't got none. To tell you truthly, I do not care for Horses not since I visited the stock yards and seen them prepared into canned turkey."' Set down ' for him. So this pleasant Party exploded apart and was enjoyed by all. Since this famus dinner collapsed, Mr. Editor, me and Nogi has been putting our intelligence together and thinking about Hobby Horses which must be rode by all Statesmen of high and low ca pacity. So we put on our most careful frockaway manners and went knocking among the Public Offices. Thusly we was enabled to have delightful conversations with several Great Politicians who did not see US soon enough to escape. Fol lowing Is several: To Hon. Nels Aldrlch we require: 1 "What favorite Hobby Horse do you ride a lot of cartridges Into my pockets and start for a hunt. I'd walk 15 or 20 miles barefooted through sand and gravel as hot as the top of a boiler, and over rocks and brush, and come home with a few quail or some nice fat doves. Father would be at home. He'd look at me se verely and say: "Jim, I suppose you finished your work this morning?" "No, sir. It got too hot." "Was it too hot to, go hunting?" "No, sir not in the shade." "A-hum," he'd say. "And did you get anything?" Then I'd go out to the kitchen and bring In the game. He'd frown a little nr-reo ctiwbjty mu.es Throve SWt A MoT A TU TeC. r.w to show he hadn't forgotten telling me to work In the field, but then he'd smile, for he was a man very fond of game, and he couldn't resist the charm of a brace of plump quail. At the worst I -could always depend upon my mother. She could never see anything wrong In what her boys did. And that makes me think that there was a preacher named Cobb living near us. I suppose he was a good enough sort of a man in his own way, but he surely did 'have it in for me. If he'd been en out-of-door. man. too, and had taken a shotgun and gone out for a hunt with us boys now or then, or had played ball with us like some preach ers I've seen, we would have had more respect for him. But Instead of. hob nobbing with us he was always preach ing and telling us what we were com ing to and it wasn't anything very complimentary to the boys of the Jef fries family either. It seemed as if that preacher had not anything to do but to make trouble for me. He was always around when I got into mischief, and he was always the first to tell. One day he caught me smoking a cigarette. I was Just experimenting I didn't have the habit- The preacher looked at me and moved away, side wise, like a crab. In the direction of my house. I had a hunch that some thing was going to happen, so I ran through the orchard and got there first. When he came In where my mother was there I stood, Cleaning on our old square piano with my elbow. The preacher looked straight at me for a moment. Then he turned and said solemnly: "Does any of your boys smoke, Mrs. Jeffries" - You'd have thought he was asking If any of us were burglars he had such a mournful sound in his voice. For a moment my mother was flustered. Then she said: "Yes, I think my oldest boy does sometimes but" "I thought I saw one smoking the other day." said Parson Cobb, slow and solemn, like a judge condemn ing a prisoner. Then he stopped and looked straight at me so hard that anybody could have known which one he meant. That made me sore. I took my elbow off the piano and looked him in the eye. "Hasn't my mother enough to worry about without your sneaking In here and telling tales?" I asked him. That settled' the parson's case. He couldn't tell my mother that her boys weren't exactly right. So he waited for a chance to try It on father. Leaving the house he met father coming down the path. "Mr. Jeffries," he said in that same mournful tone, "do you know what kind of boys 'you have?" Here Parson Cobb gave me a long stare again, for I was right beside him. "I have good boys," said my father. "Good boys!" echoed the parson. "I'm afraid James" (drawling the words out long) "is a pretty bad boy." "Why," said my dad, laughing, "I think Jim is the best boy I've got." So 'the enemy of my youth was dis comfited, and went away with a sour look on his face. But I'm afraid I was a pretty bad boy after all, for I fol lowed after and when he turned to scowl I threw two cats at him. One cat may not be very effective, but two cats, especially with their tails tied together, and landing one on each shoulder, can make an awful fuss. Par son Cobb departed with more haste than dignity, and for a while your friend Jim lived in peace. CHAPTER III. I Kill My First Deer. I WAS only 11 years old when I killed my first deer. But there's no use In boasting about that, for many boys in the western country shoot deer as soon as they can drag a rifle. At the time, however, I remember, I thought it was about as thrilling a stunt as any of Kit TN WASHINGTON when hiding away from serious work?" "Parlor Magic is my most frequent game," retrieve Hon. Aldrich with tailor made smiles. "I got a trick called 'Fix ing the Price" which is very popular at church socials. I take a small roll of cotton cloth end hold it in my glove. 'Do you wish this to go up or down?' . I require sweetly, 'Down, please! they re port foolishly. So I take this roll of cotton cloth and lift it gradually to the ceiling. 'Do you notice it is going down?' I require. 'Yes, yes it Is sinking through the floor!' they cry eggerly, quite Ignor ant of the fact that I have just hung it to the chandelier, Such is the power of mental delusion. Quick walk-away by me and Nogl. Hon. Frank Hitchcock say "I am also Interested in Parlor Games." "What one of these do you mostly pre fer?" we require. "Postofflce," he report lite he wlsht we would go. Quick knock-out for ine and Nogi. Hon. Wm. H. Taft, prominent Presi dent, say his hobbies are all hopeless since he got a ottomoblle. Teasing the Trusts, he say. Is a nice Winter amuse ment, because it 13 harmless and do not injure nobody. This Taft roan is crazed about basaball, because he can set still eating fattening peanuts end let the Na tional League do all the work. "I am not sporty about most sports," he dib. "How about Gollufr I requesh. "Golluf la not a sport It la a duty," Carson's or Fremont's, and I felt quite a bit superior to the boys in my class who were content to stay at home and play tag when they weren't In school. I had the first rifle my father gave me, and It wasn't any toy rifle picked out for a boy. My father didn't care for fancy outfits either for hunting or for fishing. So he gave me a 45-70 "Winches ter. That gun was big enough to kill elephants with, and when I tried It on a quail it didn't leave anything but a cloud of feathers floating in .the air. I snapped at a jack rabbit running away from me across the sand and the whirling bullet took him end on. All I found was his hide and his ears and hind legs. As for gate posts, that gun would have driven a chunk of lead through a dozen or two of them stood up In line. I was very anxious to try it on big game. There were deer all around In the hills in those days. You could find their trails everywhere along the ridges and leading down to the water in the valleys. One morning I started out with the big rifle over my shoulder, intending to bring in a deer and surprise everybody. It was a fine day. Funny how details stand out in a man's mind after so many years! There wasn't a cloud in the sky and It was just cool enough to be comfortable. Every now and then a jack rabbit Jumped out of the brush and went flying along in great leaps and bounds, or a cotton tail scurried under the grease wood and disappeared in an instant. There were birds here and there and lit tle lizards that ran over rocks in the sunshine and stood bobbing their heads up and. down as long as I was in sight. A road-runner went along the smooth trail ahead of me like a sprinter until he disappeared, and I looked around to see if he had built in a rattlesnake anywhere. Often In the desert or the mountain valleys I have found traces of a road runner's work. A. road-runner is a long legged bird. He likes smooth ground where he can take a long running start, and the way lie can make those bony legs fly Is a sight. A road-runner's chief business is killing rattlesnakes. When he ifinds one asleep ho gathers a lot of cac tus thorne. Then he builds a circle of thorns all around the snake lying there asleep in the col, turns all the points carefully in toward the center, steps, back a little and begins to make a racket. The snake wakes up, sees the road-runner, looks the hedge all over. .A - "Ti. SNAKV AS finds that he can't get through It any where, and makes up his mind to die on the spot. He strikes himself with his own fangs and in a few minutes It's all over for the snake. Then the road runner squaks a couple of times, clears away the cactus thorns, and has a rattler for lunch. This particular bird had disappeared. But, as luck would have it, I happened to find his victim out in the middle of a clear patch of sand. The snake had Just awakened, I guess, for he , was twisting and crawling slowly around and around Inside the hedge. Now and then he'd lift his head high and start to slide across, but as soon as hla neck touched the thorns he'd draw back quickly and go squirming around again. There weren't any openings In the fence. To hurry matters a little I picked up a switch and tapped the rattler over the head with It. He got Into a great rage, and In a minute or two he turned deliberately and stuck his fangs into his own body down near the tail. He pulled the fangs free and struck again and again. slowly and heavily. I didn't waste any more time waiting to see him die. He was practically a dead rattler then. I didn't want his rattles because they always said It was bad luck to cut off the rattles of a rattler that had time to strike himself before he died. His blood is full of poison, and if you happen to get It on your knife blade and cut yourself afterward there may be trouble. I was up In Big Tahunga Canyon now, keeping my eyes open for deer, and sure enough, not long before sun set, I ran into two doe and a fine buck. They were standing In a group. In easy range, right in a little gully. Up came the 45-70 Winchester to my shoulder. I drew a fine bead on the buck and pulled the trigger. A puff of dirt flew up into the air from the bank just behind my buck, who Ut"xut up the hill. I could hear him crashing through the thickets. The two does tore off into the brush and disappeared. For a moment I stood there, the most disappointed boy in the world. I had he gubble peevly, like he was talking to a Corporation. Me and Nogi could not stay to lunch, because we was not invited. To Senator Crane of Maes we a 3k -it, "What is your special fad or mania?" "Getting back to the Senate for an other term," he report promptly like a soldier. Me and Nogl eloped onwards. Senator Smoot of Utah say-so "My favorite game is Follow Your Leader. I hold the championship for the season." Goodbye from me and Nogi. Hon. Vic Burdock of Kas report. "My favorite Hobby is collecting valuable things." ' "What are you collecting now?" re quire me and Xogi together like chorus girls. "Insurgent votes," he depose. Me and Nogl make note of this phe nomenal. Hon. Bryan O'Toole, Government Plumber who have labored with the leaky condition of the Capitol Bldg. -for 26 to 30 years. Is a very deepdown student of human-nature, especially when found in Senators. "Time Is past," say this O'Toole man. "when Statesmen can ar rive to Washington and try to succeed without some sort of eccentricity. Many a young Politician has remained in Washington for a brief Winter, then faded like a snowball in the Spring. Cause of why? Because he never done nothing la sa way peculiar irom. nobody been cock-sure of dropping my game, and ail I had done was to raise the dust beyond him. I followed his trail for a little way In the dusk and gave it up. He was badly scared at least, and there wasn't a chance that he'd stop running for miles. When I got back my big brother met me. "Well, Jim, did you get a deer?" he asked. "No, I had a chance, but I missed," I said gloomily. "Are you sure you missed?" I told him all about It. "Jim," said he, "I'll bet you hit that Ceao oi" rue rbicx AND Puu.tO buck. We'll go out in the morning and get him." I didn't feel very optimistic myself, but early next morning my brother and I started up the canyon. When we got near the place where I had seen the deer there were two or three vul tures sailing in lazy circles overhead. Looking around, we could see others, high up In the air, coming toward us. "You got that deer," said my brother. "We're Just in time." . Sure enough we followed up his trail and found him without much trouble. He was hit a little way back of the shoulder. Since that day I've often been sur prised by the vitality of wild things. A man an ordinary man hit like that wouldn't have moved far enough to step out of his tracks. Just the shock of a bullet Is heavier than any knock down blow ever delivered in the ring. Many a time I've seen a bear struck by a bullet go down and roll over and over as if he had been hit by a rail road train. CHAPTER IV. I Hsve My First Big Schoolboy Fight. My father used to tell stories about our fighting ancestors every now and then, but not often enough to excite too much Interest. "The Jeffries family was heard Of in the Revolutionary War and in the Indian wars." he used to say, "and let me tell you, though they were a quiet and peace loving people, they never allowed themselves to be whipped." That was the principle I tried to fol low. I never picked any rights, but If one started In spite of me, I took great Joy in not allowing myself to be whipped. The surest way to prevent that was to pound the other fellow un til he gave In. When I was a small boy In the Arroyo Seco school, near our home ranch, there was a bigger boy in the school named Fred Hamilton. Fred and I had some rivalry, although at that time I hand't grown very talL He was 19 years old and weighed about 195 pounds. I weighed about 140, but I was stocky and broad and strong even then. One day Hamilton and I got into an argument. After a few words he reached over and hit me. Now, my father used to say. "If an enemy smite thee, turn the other cheek." I thought that was all right, but if he hit the other cheek, too, whatever followed was his own fault. Remembering the Bible lessons at home and these precepts always laid down by my father, I turned the other cheek according to rule. "Just hit me once more," I said, "and I'll get mad.". He did it. And then things began to happen. I might not have had a chance with him when we were both on our feet, but I TOGO FINDS HOBBY-HORSE RIDING FAVOR ITE EXERCISE AMONG GREAT MEN else. He didn't wear fried egg on his evening front, neither did he shoot a car conductor who disagreed with him on the Open Door in China. He simply ran his Senatorshlp like he ran bis hard ware etore at -home calmly and with his eye "on the profits. "This," say Hon. O'Toole, "are no way to be a Statesman in this day of great theatrical enterprises. If a gentleman wish to represent his State properly he must get his name in the papers. He must lose his diamond-studded razor, or buy a flying machine or be caught talk ing with Senator Guggenheim over a map of Alaska." "Is this why Hobby-riding Is so pop ular among great Washington men?" I negotiate. "Sure is!" renlg Hon O'Toole. "Sen ator Aldrlch lectures Bankers' Alliances and Senator Dolliver lectures Chat-Talk-wa ladles. Senataor Kean grows stock and Senator LaFollette grows hair." "They have doubtlessly got good rea sons for doing what they done," I dally forth. "Do you realize what the Suffragette said when she stabbed the Policeman with a hat-pin?" he pop out. "What utterance did she say, please?" I ask like a minstrel show. "She say, 'Next time you see me per haps you will notice I am coming,' " de range this, plumbing person. "Did Hon Thos. Jeff and Hon. Hen Clay, Una. tt necessary; to get some Jhob- caught him with a hip lock at the first rush and threw him flat on the ground. Before he could wlgglo away 1 was on. top, hammering with both hands. I didn't know anything about fair, stand up fighting In those days and didn't bother my head about ring proprieties. Everything went. Hamilton couldn't throw me off and I gave him a fierce beating. His eyes were blackened and his face bruised when I got through. Then I let him up and went back into the schoolhouse. He followed. Of course there was an investigation on the spot. "Did you do all this damage?" asked the teacher, after taking a good look at Fred. "I did," said I. The teacher looked at the big fellow and laughed. The difference In our sizes made it seem ridiculous. I guess. At- any rate, teacher wouldn't believe that little Jimmy was the guilty party and refused to punish me. Hamilton and I had many a good laugh over it years afterward when I had grown up to a man's size, and ho didn't mind the idea of having been beaten by me. On another day a teacher threw a ball at me and hit me on the head. I picked It up and threw it back and hit him on the head, but much harder. I wasn't punished for that, for it was Just tit for tat and no favors. All through my school days I had little scraps, like other boys, but none of them serious. My brother Charle.s (or Jack) did more real fighting. On one occasion he fought a big boy for a full hour and fairly massacred him. It was a fair fight, all arranged before it began. The other boy had a second and I seconded Jack. He was a game kid. At first the fight went against him, but he stuck It out until he beat the other boy to a pulp, as the sporting writers always say in the newspapers. I quit school when I was 14 years old and went to the Los Angeles Business College for a year. But that was too light work to suit me. I wanted to do something that would take strength. So I went to work as an apprentice for the Lacey Manufacturing Company, Ironworkers, to learn the trade. Here my strength came In very good. I mastered the work in no time, and In five months I could handle anything that any man in the shop could work on, so that I was earning, piece work, from $3 to $12 a day, as much as any man there except the boss himself. Those were rough days, full of fun, for 1't AJ TE fco To SIM KVt) the roughest work was all play to me then. Even outside of working hours I followed the strenuous life. We used to get together at night and play cards. Sometimes I'd play all night without a wink of sleep and go on the job again when the whistle blow. I'd ask the boss to give me the hardest work he had, so that I could keep awake over it. And often. Just for a joke, he'd put mo on some soft Job and laugh at mo when I fell asleep doing It. There didn't seem to be any limit to my endurance then. Sometimes I'd go homo after a night and day like that, determined to roll in and sleep 12 hours. And there would be the boys and the cards, and I'd get Into an other all-night game with a day's work to pile on top of it. There were some great men In the mills. My best pal was n fellow called Speedy. We were chums because we were both strong. Speedy was the strongest man I ever knew or ever met anywhere. Today he's superintendent of . a mine down In Mexico with my brother Jack and is making more money than he did in the iron. But I doubt that he enjoys it any more than the old days. Speedy could fight like a demon. He was built for it from the ground up. He had enormously broad shoulders and long arms and big hands, with a grip like steel. He was short-bodied and long-legged. Often we called him "The Gorilla" because of a favorite trick of his. During the noon hour or after work he'd climb into a tree, running right up like a monkey, and swing from branch to branch with his hands. I've seen him go away up Into a tall tree and drop 10 or 13 feet from branch to branch on the way down. Sometimes he'd take a big swing and let go and catch a branch so far off to one side that the feat seemed Impossible. There were other strong men In the crowd, but Speedy and I seemed to hit It off well together. We were never far apart when fun or trouble was brewing. (Copyright, 1910, by the Associated Lit erary Press in the United States, Can ada and Great Britain. All rights re served.) bles In their1 past-off generation?" was next question for me. "Ah, Japanese Schoolboy," collapse Hon. O'Toole, "Jefferson & Clay lived In a generation when advertising was dono by kerosene lamps. Their liprhts would scarcely cast a twinkle li this age of Electrlo Illumination." So me and Nogi part away feeling Hko a family of mikerobes. Hoping you are the same Yours trill v H AS HIM UR A TOGO. (Copyright, 1910, by the Associated Liter ary Press.) Biblical Wisdom. Jerome S. McWade, in a Sunday school address at Duluth, quoted oddities from a number of children's biblical composi tions that had been submitted to him in competition for a $13 New York prize. Among the more whimsical oddltiej were: "Manna Is being polite." "Jerusalem was surrounded with walls to keep In the milk and honey." "Jacob was a patriarch by trade. In them days people lived on corn, like horses do now. They always called pud den and porridge messes. Jacob could eat a good mes3. but Esau, who was the oldest, could not eat as much as you might think. The patriarch Moses never ate nothing except when there was a, famlneV'- V