April 1, 1915
A ten year old daughter of John Engler, a thirteen month old child of Walter Young’s and an aged man by the name of Edward Dilman, were all buried here last Wednesday – three funerals the same day.
The funeral of Allen Beverage was held Tuesday at Mrs. Lee Burner’s. Mr. Beverage died of tuberculosis. He was a noble young man and bore his sufferings with much patience.
G. D. Kincaid is drilling a well for Harry Burner.
We have the law dealt out by Squire Marshall to violators of the treating a friend to a drink of booze – 60 days in jail and $100 fine. The town boys that were just showing for fun, $10 fine and 24 hours in jail, just to let the boys know that booze must be cut out entirely.
Howard McElwee and family, of Minnehaha Springs, were visiting Mrs. McElwee’s brother, Rodney Buzzard, last Sunday.
Clarence McLaughlin has had a case of measles.
Miss Pearl Underwood is assisting her brother, Penick Underwood in the store this week.
MRS. STONEWALL JACKSON
Mrs. Mary Anna Jackson, wife of General Stonewall Jackson, died at her home at Charlotte, North Carolina, March 24, 1915. On Friday her body was laid to rest beside the grave of General Jackson in the Lexington, Virginia, cemetery. Rev. Dr. J. P. Smith, of Richmond, a member of General Jackson’s staff, and who was with the General when he lay wounded, was one of the ministers conducting the service.
To the People of Marlinton and Specially to the Patrons of “The Amusu:”
Replying to the filthy article of the “Pocahontas Journal” of last week, entitled, “Be sure your sins will find you out,” we wish to say that we know that there are little happenings in the Amusu that neither we nor you approve of, and we may say the same of a church or any other place of public gathering. But of one thing you may rest assured, if you will only inform the management of any misbehaviour of any kind going on in the place, it will see that it is stopped, and thank the informant.
The Manager of the Amusu is not like some people he might mention, continually looking for filth, so some things that should not be so, possibly may escape his vision.
THE AMUSU CO.
H. B. Morgan, Mgr.
THE LOSING SIDE
OF MAIL ORDER
Hans Garbus, a German farmer of Iowa, has discovered that the benefits, which appear on the surface as attaching to the mail order plan sometimes spell disaster and has written a very interesting story of his views in a certain farm paper. Here is a part of his story:
“We farmers need awakening to the fact that we have unmistakably reached the period where we must think and plan. I am one of the slow German farmers that had to be shown, and I am now giving my experience that others may profit, for knowledge is more expensive now than ten years ago.
“Twenty-nine years ago I began my farm career. I had an old team and $50. Our furniture was mostly homemade – chairs, cupboard and lounge made from dry good boxes, neatly covered with ten cent cretone by my girl wife. We rented eighty acres. Being a boy of good habits I got all needed machinery and groceries of our home merchants on credit, until fall crops were sold. The first year was a wet season and I did not make enough to pay creditors. I went to each ondate of promise and explained conditions, paying as much as possible, and they all carried the balance over another year. They continued to accommodate me until I was able to buy a forty-acre piece of my own.
“As soon as I owned these few acres, the mail order houses began sending me catalogues, and gradually I began sending my loose change to them, letting my accounts stand in my hometown where I had gotten my accommodation when I needed it.
“We then had one of the thriftiest little villages in the state – good line of business in all the branches, merchants who were willing to help an honest fellow over a bad year, and a town full of people who came twice a week to trade and visit. Our little country town supported a library, high school, ball team and we had big celebrations every year.
“A farm near a live town soon doubles in value. I sold my forty acres and bought an eighty acre farm, gradually adding to it until I had 200 acres of the best land in Iowa. I then felt in no need of asking favors and found it easy to patronize the mail order agent that came almost weekly to our door. I regret to say that I was the first in the county to make up a mail order bill and send it to a mail order house. Though we got bit every once in a while, we got in the habit of sending away for stuff.
“Gradually our merchants lessened their stock of goods – for lack of patronage. Finally, we began to realize that when we needed a bolt quickly for machinery, or clothing for sickness or death, we had to wait and send away for it, which wasn’t so pleasant. One by one our merchants moved to places where they were appreciated, and men of less energy moved in. Gradually our town has gone down; our business houses are “tacky” in appearance, a number are empty; our schools, churches and walks are going down, we have no an, no library, nor no ball team. There is no business done in the town, and therefore no taxes to keep things up. Hotel is closed for lack of travel. Go down to the depot when the freight pulls in and you will see the sequel in mail order packages.
“Nine years ago my farm was worth $195 and acre; today I’d have a hard matter to sell it at $167 an acre. It is “too far from a live town,” so every farmer has said that wants to buy. He wants a place near schools and churches, where his children can have advantages. I have awakened to the fact that in helping to pull the town down, it has cost me $5,600 in nine years.”
N.Y Journal of Commerce