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About The Sunday Oregonian. (Portland, Ore.) 1881-current | View Entire Issue (May 14, 1911)
iTTTE STTXDAT OREGOXTAX, POKTLA3JD. BIA.T 14, 1911. Some New 9 Q p & v Sele-madds Op Tim flous V Tonic Storiettes and Thumb-Nail Anec dotes of Some Wondrous Struggles for Edu cation and Advancement A Boy, Who in a DarK Mine Studied Law by His FlicKering T nV. T-7 rn 1 i ci r Luip uuicu nave uimueu nine 3uaii, Bridg'e Piers and Church Steeples on Their Way to Cong'ress Nevsbcys,-Mechanics and Men of Lowly Occupation Who Won Their Way. BT JOHN KLFRETH WATKIN'3. WASHINGTON. May 13 They heard the rattle, then the roar. They uw the cursed slag-pile sliCe. and when the dirty cloud of dust had disappeared they knew that the "kid" had bees swallowed up. While they bent tbelr backs to shovel him out they were sure that his little ghost had already bubbled up through the wicked rray stuff and had gone on Its way to glory- They struck him at last, laid him still upon the ground and while they bent over him they found some breath in bis body and In Ms pocket a book on elementary phy sics. He was 16 and bad never been to school Yet on. the same day that he bought the "elementary physics" he had brought borne a volume of Macau ley Essays. He hoped some day to save $:oo and become a cabinet maker. but this seemed a ion? way on. The minors there In the Shamokin fields would bear nothing against him be cause none of his elders was as handy or nearly as willing as be to write them a letter when they had something In tell toe folks st home. He became somewhat of an orator In the Knights of Labor, and one day. when a lad of If and not yet five feet tall nor Is he now a typesetter who heard his gift of gab during a labor meeting let loo on him ti:e bag for studying law. And It was with Kent's Commentaries tinder his arm that the lad got to going down Into the mines now In the gray hours. Studied In the Mine. In those inky caverns by the flicker ing flame on bis cap, he studied law at old hours by day. More study was needed at night, but after the long day In the darknesa and sweat and Im pure air It was bard to keep awake a difficulty which he overcame by hold ing bis book in a position that hurt his arm. x The pain kept him awake, but he waa up as early as ever to dig tn the mines. And he kept on digging till one day. when they missed him. That day i he washed the sweat off his face and pnt on his Sunday clothes. They told afterward of seeing him enter the Courthouse. That day he came home bearing in his pocket a license to practice law In the state of Maryland. And the other day be took his oath as a new member of the (2d Congress. Learned a Little at Sunday School. So much and a bit more for Dave Lewis, son of poor Welsh immigrants, who settled down to life In a Pennsyl vania log cabin, where he was born and where, at the age of i. his mother taught him how to read a little. At Sunday school he learned a bit more. At he began to work In the mines at $10 a month, for there were four younger children at home. At 11 the little family was left motherless. Mean while Davy had borrowed some school books and that was Kbw he came to get far enough along to swallow Ma caulay and elementary physics when be was lf. If there Is any poor lad In the land Who has his lip out these days because he thinks he has no chance, swallow not only this story of Dave Lewis, but these additional scraps from the lives of the other new self-made representatives In the :nd Congress, now sitting tn solemn session. It has taken this month that they have been here haggling to sort them out. and I count about a baker's dosen of them whose climb to the while-domed temple of our law makers has been against terrific odds. A Carriage Painter' Apprentice. There Is John Smith, one of the new Michigan members, whose Immigrant parents brought him when an Infant of S from Ireland to Ohio, where, be tells me. he was apprenticed to a carriage painter when 11. But at IS. when his father, mother and 10 brothers and sis ters moved to Michigan, be became a farm laborer, at the same time picking up the trade of atone mason. To spread the mortar and set the stones plumb was John's ambition tfll he was 17. Then be woke up and entered the little schoolhouse at the cross-roads. He had to do extra Jobs In Summer to make up for the time thus spent. But when he waa SI, with four brief Win ters of schooling to his credit. John found that by working for himself he could earn enough In Summer to keep him In school during the Spring, as well as the Autumn. Thus he worked his way through high school and Into the University of Michigan, to the profes sion of a lawyer, to a bank presidency and a seat In Congress. A Brldgeworker'a Perilous Career. The same kind of stuff is In Frank Buchanan, jiew member from Illinois. In the days of Daniel Boone his ances tors pioneered from Virginia into Jef ferson County, Indiana, where they raised fine crops of both vegetables and youngsters, but the yield of the latter was so plentiful that when it came Frank's father's turn, there was mighty little land to support his family, also fashioned upon Rooseveltian Ideals. When the lad was about S the father died, leaving the mother with the chil dren and a mortgage on the farm. So Frank had to get to work. For three or four Winters he managed to squeeze In a few weeks schooling, between late harvest, and early planting, but soon bad to say good-bye to the schoolhouse altogether. His first job away from home, be tells me. was at one of the Kentucky river locks. Then or a time be worked tn timber, becoming superintendent for a time. Working his way down the Mississippi, he reached the bridge that was being put across that river at Memphis and got a new Job here, thus learning the trade of bridge builder and structural Ironworker when past 73. Whlie working on the great bridge that waa reaching from Louisville to JeffersonvlUe, In 1893. a thousand tons of the ateel work crashed down, car rying SO of his fellow workmen to death. W; ' ';V "'vv XX.X I r V' -- k2 ,...a I . ... t . 11 - 1111 ll''"''Bt:'t-"--"i-i )A.M-ilM.tTW-r.-: asririi i 1 1 ' &JCCTSZ3 ar.JOiZZa. But Providence was kind to Buchanan that fatal day. With a handful of co Laborers he was left high and dry upon a narrow pier that towered 90 feet above the river. Everything was stripped from each side of this pier, and there they clung in midair, with no means of escape, save a bit of two-inch line only 20 feet long. While anxious crowds looked on from the river bank. Buchanan end his com panions raveled the line into separate stands and tied these together into a single slender rope. Then down It they went, one by one, hand over hand. It did not snap, and they reached the river in safety. After making other escapes, nearly as narrow as this. Buchanan got ts h "walking delegate" in the Bridge and Structural. Iron Workers' Union, which, while he was still In his thirties, elected him Its International president. He served four successive terms, declin ing re-election, and it was during bis administration that Sam Parks, an of ficer of the union, was arrested in New York for holding up employers by un scrupulous means. Buchanan fought Parks and Parks' method at risk of his life, and before retiring from the presidency exterminated this objection able element of the union. Then Parks died In Sing Sing and Buchanan went back' to work. When elected to Congress from Chicago last Fall he waa working at his trade as an Inspector and sub foreman. He Is now 48 years old. Church steeples, rather than mine shafts and bridge piers, were among i ? -. rf- 1 I I " . 4,.. vr.-i '." 3 I the hazards which William Wilder, of the Fourth Massachusetts District, had to conquer before reaching the Con gressional goal this glorious Spring. He was born in Belfast, Me., where his mother taught school and his father was a mechanic, but when young Wll. liam was 11 he was moved with th' rest of the family baggage to Massa chusetts. Here the lad started in much as Frank Buchanan did in Indiana- worked on the farm, went to country school between seasons and worked In the woods chopping timber. At 14, get ting a Job with, a farmer who owned a card mill, he alternated between field and factory, and a.t 15 went to work for another farmer, who part of the time kept him In the woods cutting chair stock, and the remainder of the time had him at work In his factory for this employer, too, was both farmer and millman. At 16 he became a painter, and by 17 was a boss at the business. It was from now until he was 29 that he crawled up and down all of the church spires in the neighborhood, giving them fresh coats of color. During this dozen years there was no handler man in Gardner his present home at house, carriage and sign painting, graining and frescoing; and be also did paper hanging on the side. Next, he opened a store which sold wall papers, paints, glassware, silverware and crockery, and after this he patented some oil stoves and opened a factory for making them. At first be made the patterns himself and two other men finished the product, but the business grew, in spite of a fire that wiped the plant out. Be sides a printery, factories for manufac turing portable houses, tools and ma chinery were later added to the Wilder Industries, and he woke up one morn ing to find himself a capitalist. Studied Law at Forty-five. With all of these Irons in the fire, you would wonder how, this one-time steeplejack could get time to start the study of law at 45. But that's exactly ' what he did, under the tutelage of & leading attorney of his town with whom he spent every available after noon. And a few years later be spent two days in passing the Federal bar examination at Washington, where now. while attending Congress, he main tains a law office, where cases in volving patent, corporation and general law are thrashed out between sittings of the House. If Wilder has ever wast ed any time you could count It off while holding your breath Just once. Like everybody else that ever came out of the Maine woods, he Is a hustler from Hustlorsville, Hustler County. It s a shame that the editor thinks we had better begin now to taper down these chapters about the new self mades of the House, for each bears a good dose of "Ionic for the youth who sulks about not having a chance in life. Other Mechanics Who Climbed. There is Bob Difenderfer, of the Eighth Pennsylvania, another quondam farm boy who became a house painter. He switched off to dentistry and after extracting teeth and howls from his townsfolk for 14 years, packed (off to China, built and operated the first woolen mill in the Chinese empire, went through the Boxer rebellion, came home with a good-sized wad, entered the wholesale lumber business at 61 and the House of Representatives, the other day, at goinp on 62. There, too, is John Farr, of Scranton, Pa., who from newsboy became printer, from printer became publisher, from publisher real estate operator and from real estate operator Congressman. And his colleague, Charles Bowman, in the neighboring Eleventh . Keystone dis trict, started out as a woodworker be fore working his way to a college de gree of civil engineer, which, coupled with grit and ability, led to his ad vancement as coal road manager, mine superintendent and mine owner. From Forge to Congress. His neighboring district, the Blee enth, has Just sent to the House Bob Lee, the erstwhile ' bLacksrnlth, who went from the forge into business, ana from the Twenty-fourth comes Charles Matthews, who. although now a pros perous banker and manufacturer, start ed to work, when a child, In the rolling mills of New Castle, his present home. None of these men had a worse struggle in the beginning than George Konig, of Baltimore, who did not learn to read and write until after ne naa learned the trade of shlp-calker. He Is now superintendent and general man ager of one of the Monumental City's largest manufacturing plants. Such another is James P. Maher, of Brook lyn, who as a boy was apprenticed to a hatter, which trade he afterwara ioi lowed, until becoming a labor union official and politician. Two boys who paid their way through school by working In country tores between sessions were iiooecie of Omaha and Kindred of Long Island Citv. N. T.. the former of whom became a drummer, state legislator and city of ficial, and the latter a physician, alien ist and landowner. Copyright. 1911, by John Elfreth Wat kins. T 1E TICKLE MORE BOOM t-3 STC3SY" OF cAN AIUXKOR WMOSB A3UTOGRAPr WAS VAlJJJXBlJEr BT F. E. CHASE. IS a very simple matter,' Id I the Furniture Dealer. "We will " send you every day a new library chair. Tou agree to sit In these chairs during your working hours, and to sup ply us with a memorandum of the particular work done during such oc cupancy.' "Yes," said the Eminent Author, "that Is very easy. "Kor this eervtce," pursued the man of business, "we agree to pay five do! lars per hair or roughly, allowing for Sunday, holidays and days when you are Incapacitated by Illness, fifteen hundred dollars a year. It Is an easy Job. All you have to do Is sit down and take your money, "True." said the Author. "But so pre eminently sedentary an employment might react upon my health." "That Is the chance you take," re- riled the financial genius briskly. "Of course. If you prefer, yon might Im press your personality upon only on chair per annum, for which we might get. through the value of such unique association, a very large price Indeed: but this la highly speculative, since such customers, combining the most ar dent spirit of th collector with th amplest financial resources; are rar Indeed. Something of th conservative natur of a steady Job struck m as being better all around.' "I see th Idea." replied Tlcklemor. "But should not th chair In which I begin or end a notable work be worth perhaps, double price to youT I do not wish to seem grasping, but th dignity of my calling enforces certain obliga tions upon me.' "That may be." said the Dealer, "but at th present experimental stage of th business w cannot afely figure upon these niceties. "I see." said the Author. "These are matter for future consideration. "Tea." replied th other, producing a contract In duplicate. "Kindly sign these, and we are off upon our trial heat." The great Tlcklemor flushed alight ly and did not take the proffered pen. "Is a contracC necessary?" he ald at length. "I confess to a certain disin clination to sign my nam.' "Absolutely." said th Furniture Dealer decisively. "In that case." replied Tlcklemor firmly, albeit with embarrassment. w need talk no further. I thank you for your liberality, and bid you good day. .might have Induced him to yield to these requests; but as it was. he took the advice of, his friend. Coolpltcher, the comedian. "Never, dear boy," saidJhat veteran in popularity, "on your blessed lite. Ignore 'em. Don't make yourself too cheap. In this counsel Coolpltcher wa en tirely consistent with his own practice for though he had never been niggard ly of his autograph and had, indeed. given It freely during a long and check ered pubilo career, chiefly In the form of L O. U.'s, h has never made It at all cheap to Its recipients. Tlcklemor adopted It forthwith, employing th re quests which continued . to crowd hi letterbox as pip lights, and utilizing th return postage stamps they occa sionally contained for the forwarding of manuscript to hi publishers. It waa not long before It got abroad that the distinguished Mr. Tlcklemor had never given his autograph to any one, even going to th length of sign ing private notes with a rubber stamp. and of making verbal contracts only, to the Jeopardy of his pecuniary In terests. This singular fact, circulated widely tn the newspapers by his astute publisher as a literary note, stimu lated his admirers to redoubled energy In th pursuit of so unique a possession. ut at such nalv contrivances as reg istered letters or presents of fruit, gam or cigars, th cunning Tlcklemor merely laughed, th not wholly dis interested hand of Coolpltcher coming readily to hi aid. Two desperate characters lar In wait for him one dark night and having captured a neighbor who bore a strong personal resemblance to the hero of the hour, easily persuaded him at the pistol's mouth to write a number of copies of Tlcklemor' name, which they succeeded In selling at a large rigur before their victim had time to tell his story. The Postofflc Department waa forced to prosecute a fraudulent genius who advertised to send early copies of Tick iemore s signature cut from old manu script, and who really sent, with some confusion of Idea, sheet of manuscript irora wnicn a signature had been cut and more than one hotel man prlvltely wrote the distinguished name In an old register, and then employed some dis interested person to discover lt me leading newspapers all nubllahed facsimiles of this rare autograDh. In every style of handwriting, and a well known pedagogue, who bad aided In forming th mind and band of th In fant Tlcklemore. came out In a long jeuer laentiiymg in worst of thee as genuine, by an expert comparison with page of juvenile pothooks. Th few autographs that had aur- conduct. simple Justice to hlmaelf de manded the statement that, for hi part, he was Incapable of converting a pub lic trust to private ends, while the cashier, whom he met that evening in society, said with some bitterness that it waa a hard position for an upright man to be mixed up with people whose moral sense was a minus quantity. From which Tlcklemore Inferred that they had divided the spoils. At th month's end. when he called for his book, which had been sent In to be balanced, the young man who handed it to him said: "Tou need not have troubled to bring In your book. Mr. Tlcklemore, since I see you have no checks out" "Ah. but I have," he replied, "lot of them." And indeed, charmed by th novelty of th thing, he had written an unnecessarily large number. In pay ment of divers small bills. None of these had been presented for payment. J . . " jw Bttuuiib iur tins, auu wben at the end of the second month he a single debit Item, he waa not only puzsled but vaguely alarmed. He did not seek Coolpltcher advice, however. In this matter. Coolpitches's pronounced talent for supplying debit items seemed to him perilous at such a crisis, so he kept the matter quit to himself. In a few days the explanation arrived in an accidental way. A struggling; literary friend said to him "I see you have set up a bank ac count, old man." "Why. yes." replied Tlcklemore, guardedly, scenting a touch, "In a small way In a very small way. How did you knowT" on, I saw one of your checks In a man's autograph album. It was for $11. He wanted It bad, seems to me. Tlcklemore remembered the check. It had been given for a box of cigars. Eleven dollars did seem a large price to pay for an autograph, even for that of a writer of his unexampled popular ity, but here was the fact a man had The author's inflammable imagination same time more frequent and more per gain received back his book without 1 paid. In effect, this precise sum for on. With these words he walked briskly I Tv'd from earlier years had been long out. and left th Furnttur Dealer star ing- Thomas Tlcklemor. whos conduct upon the above occasion calls for some explanation, will hardly be remembered by the present generation of readers of fiction, though bis vogue some ten years ago was as great as It proved ephemeral. He bad served the usual weary ap prenticeship to letters, during which his only extravagance was postage tamps, and his superlative luxury three meals a day. when the publica tion of his striking tale. "King Subter fuge, the Subtle." first brought htm Into prominence. At the very threshold of fame be encountered the autograph collector. Ills greatly augmented mall now brought him fresh commissions. fat checks and flattering words of praise and encouragement, but also. m in. proportion or twenty to one. that th original could be seen at th requests for his autograph from that Paragon office. There, behind a strong Incomprehensible clas that attaches a I plate glass, and Jealously guarded by "' a nusay policeman. Tlcklemore beheld writers art. I the signature he bkd furnished the bank jim mi iu:ctn oeen less suaaen. ana ror comparison. Later he received the resulting demand for the more I note of apology from the president aav. legitimate product of his pen been less I lng that, while he wa th last man to overwhelming, a pardonable vanity accuse a brother official of underhand ago absorbed by collectors, and the sit uation thus created waa of Inestimable value for advertising purposes, to th author's delighted publishers. That Coolpltchers advice was likely to be a source of direct profit to th author himself never occurred to either of them; nor was It so at first, save In th small economy In postage stamps that It occasioned, until the growth of Tlcklemore's Income necessitated the opening of a bank account. This ex pedient was agreeably forced upon him In a very few months after the publi cation of "King Subterfuge, the Subtle." which ran nimbly Into edition after edition. Upon the evening of the day on which Mr. Tlcklemore made his first deposit, there appeared In a leading daily paper that had published a standing offer of IS00 for a genuine, authenticated auto graph, a photo-engraved fac-almlle of his signature, and an announcement blazed un at this spark Into a vivid flash of. generalization. This unprece dented circumstance promptly trans lated Itself Into boundless wealth. His dally expenses. If paid by checks liot too large in Individual amount, would be eagerly provided for by his admirers, while his Income remained Intact. It was a fortunate condition of things be side which the resources of Monte Cris to became Insignificant. He applied his nimble pen to this new task with zeal. He worked half the day only upon his new- novel, and de voted thq remainder to the cogenlal la bor of writing checks, equally imag inative in point of Vralue, that were never to be paid. Iu a short time his second book -duly appeared, and its popularity exceeded. If possible, that of his first. Thus encouraged, Tlcklemore employed an attractive young woman as an assistant to do the drudgery of filling in the amounts and other de tails of the checks, and saved his own strength for the labor of signing them. thus doubling his dally output. He had a specially engraved and highly ornamental check, less commercial In appearance and better suited for the purely decorative uses of autograph albums, made for him in books of 600 each, and filled his library shelves with them. It was no mere figure of speech when he described his books as his treasures. His wholly unimpaired capital he In vested In real estate In choice locali ties and tn good bonds, displaying con siderable shrewdness in both lines of investment. But he did not permit the business to interfere with the remu nerative labor of writing checks. His literary labors suffered somewhat from these encroachments, but still he con trived, with the Invaluable aid of his pretty amanuensis, to get out his thl 01 novel by the end of th second year. Upon the day that It was finished, after signing the usual batch of checks made ready for him by her careful hand, he signed an additional one In blank a most unwise thing to do requesting her to make It out for a specified sum to her own order. 'Pray accept this, my dear." said he with an engaging smile, "as a slight testimonial of my regard and apprecia tion." It may have been due to the fact that two very striking books by other au thors appeared at about the same time. or there may really have been, as the critical press Insisted, a falling off In his work from the old standard which had made him famous; but It Is certain that his third noveli fell rather flat. barely reaching a second edition In the first year. This, however, he accepted philosophically, saying, "Better luck next time, and went on writing checks with the same reckless hand. One day, to his great surprise, he re ceived a polite notice from the bajik calling his attention to an overdraft which he was requested to make good. He went down to see about It, and found that 600 or 800 of his recent check had been unprecedently presented ror payment, quite exhausting the com fortable balance which he had left af ter his last purchase of bonds. This disconcerted him a little, but he sold a few securities and made the loss good. At- the end of the month the balance which he had thus restored was again exhausted by an influx of checks which made a package so large that they had to be returned to him by express. un looking them over the same even. ing he discovered with dismay that among those of recent date were a good many earlier ones which bore unon their backs stains of the mucilage by means of which they had been attached to the pages of autograph albums. Still he did not grasp the full consequences of his fall from popularity, but met what he regarded as a temoorarv re verse with tiie nonchalance of a man of large resources. He began to notice, however, a change In the manner of the people at the bank which disconcerted him, and the notices of overdrafts became at th , emntoni In response to these he sold by degrees all his securities and finally his real estate and personal Deiongings, bu,t still the flood of checks returned upon and absorbed the proceeds of his sales. The crisis came quickly. In answer to an urgent demand for funds, he had sold his last remaining assets to the amount of some $89,000, and had en trusted this sum to his typewriter to deposit It. She had hardly time to reach the bank when the cashier telephoned for more money. "But I have Just paid In nearly $90, 000," gasped Tlcklemore. "All checked out," came over the un sympathetic 'phone. Tlcklemore fell back stunned In Ml off iec chair, where his typewriter found him 10 minutes later. "Well, Mary," he said feebly, "it's all up." "Not on your life," said Mary, who, though gifted in a practical way, still lacked the higher culture. "Eh!" said Tlcklemore, sitting up. "Was it a false report, then?" "No," she replied. "You're broke, right enough; but after I had banked that ninety thou.. I filled out that blank check you give me. an' put It In at the other window. So I'm it." Ticklemore gazed upon her with ad-, miration. "Mary, will you marry me!" said he. "In a minute!" she replied. THRILLING MOMENTS DURING THE CIVIL WAR COXTTXTED FROM PAGE 2. ment." It was the seventh of May. Darkness had fallen over the fighting hosts. There was a stirring of feet in the great camp in the Wilderness. The shadow shapes of moving regiments cast their uncanny reflections on the blood-stained ground. The moment of decision had come. Grant had fought out the problem and his own Judg ment had been the battle-ground. The magnificent Army of the Potomac moved, not as all his predecessors bad done, but around the flank of the foe On to Richmond! Lee to the Front. It was in this great Wilderness cam paign that Lee, by an act of sublime courage, at the "psychological moment," temporarily staid the hand of Grant and saved his own army from earlier defeat and disaster.. By one of his brilliant counter strokes, Lee Interposed his army between Grant and Richmond, at Spott sylvanla. On the twelfth of May, the crisis of the Southern army was reached. Early in the morning, by a sudden dash, Hancock's troops surprised the outer lines of the Southerners, capturing thouands of men. With but a slight pause the Northerners rushed on toward the second line. With Its capture the Confederate army would be divided and beaten. The road to Ethmond would then be open to Grant's Rglons. The troops of the South met Han cock's charging forces with a deter mined resistance. Slowly the -Northerners forced their way along.- It ap peared that the Southern line would be broken. A line of gray was form ing for the charge. Under the storm of shot and shell It wavered. Suddenly, at the head of the columns, there appeared the erect figure of a man in gray; his white hair and benign face sent a thrill through the lines. It was Lee beloved leader of the South land, coming to the front to lead his soldiers. As he sat quietly on his horse, J his sword In his hand, his eyes flashing with, the battle-light, all the love of the Southern soldiers for their commander, all their Southern chivalry and valor, was awakened. "Lee to the rear!" they cried. "Lee to the rear!" rang from a thou sand throats. The bridle-rein of the battle-charger "was grasped by a pri vate, and his horse led back out of the range of fire, when, with a defiant yell, the troops dashed forward. The men were Inspired. Nothing but death could check their onward rush. They plunged against the Federal line and hurled It back until it was driven across the outer works. Throughout an entire day Hancock strive! to re gain the ground he had lost In that desperate charge. His efforts were in vain. , The Southerners held their ground. The willingness of the South ern leader to offer his own life at the psychological moment" had inspired his men to save the day and had pro longed the life of the Confederate States of America. One more moment of strategy and the greatest fratricidal war in the an nals of mankind was to be ended. The citadel of the Confederacy had fallen. The "moment of decision" of Grant In the Wilderness had been th stroke of destiny. Fighting desper ately, Lee had been driven at last Into the Confederate capital and through It. Grant's army, constantly rein forced, now outnumbered Lee manyfold, and, in his last heroic effort to escape, the Southern leader fled toward the Appomattox River. The retreating army reached the river. At High Bridge it started to cross. If It could gain the opposite shore and destroy the bridge before the Northerners arrived, it would gain precious hours In its flight. A detail of the army of the South took Its posi tion on the bridge waiting for the sol diers to cross and then to apply the torch. The rear guard, under Mahone, marched over the span early In the, night of the sixth of April. His troops . took their station on the hill over looking the river, prepared to hold back the Federal pontonlers after the i bridge had been destroyed. Dawn of the morning of the 7th came. Mahone looked toward the bridge. No , preparations had been made for the destruction. Even then it should have . been in flames. "Why is this bridge not burning? demanded Mahone angrily. "I have received no orders to start the fire," replied the officer In charge of the troops stationed there. Mahone ordered every man In the guard to pile fuel upon the spanr In a short time great piles of dry wood had been placed in position. Burning firebrands were thrust Into the heaps. Just as the flames leaped from the burning masses the serried ranks of the Federals appeared on the crest of the opposite slope. They perceived the situation in a moment. They dashed down the hillside in the face of the desperate efforts of the Confederates to check them and on to the bridge, hurling the piles of burning wood into the river below. The fire was checked. and in a short time the structure was resounding with the steady tread of the warriors in blue. Lee's forlorn hope had failed. Before another night his exhausted troops were surrounded by the hosts of the North. At the last fateful moment, when their destiny -hung in the balance, some one had failed to act at the "psychological moment." (Copyright, 1911. by the Searchlls;ht Library.) Editor's Note: The second of this semi-centennial series being written ; by Mr. Miller for The Oregonian will appear next Sunday, under the title of "Common Deeds of the Common Sol dier." I .
