Thursday, September 13, 1900
It has been reported that the West Virginia Fish Hat-chery will be located on Stony Creek near Marlinton. We have no reasons to believe that the site has yet been fixed upon. A citizen of Marlinton remarked in an excited way that he had gotten a forty-dollar a month job in the new Fish Hatchery. Being asked by the store loafers what the job was, he replied, “Herding fish!”
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The Democratic Executive Committee met last Friday at the courthouse to attend to routine business of the campaign. Hon. E. I. Holt, the county chairman, is giving his time and attention to the campaign in the county and the prospects are that we will hand over our little offering to the party in the State our usual snug majority. We may have to be content with strangers voting in this county this year, owing to the presence of a large number of others on the public works here, but the democratic party at least will have representatives on the commission to hold elections at the various precincts, who will require strict proof of residency on the part of any stranger who may try to vote.
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The private citizen who was toiling at his usual daily task known as two men’s work, was on the lookout for a man to cut some wood whereby his dinner could be cooked.
He could cut wood, but a woodcutter could not abstract the title on which he was working, for he was a lawyer who had been trained to his work for years. Having failed, he had a cold dinner and suffered reproach from his wife. He made a feint of reading a newspaper, and, as he did so, he was informed by a worshipper of McKinley that there was not an unemployed man in the country, nothing was said about the real problem of how to get the right man and employ him. He took small comfort from this, and wondered when the millennium arrived what sort of a transcendent spirit he could secure to wait on him. He explained all this to his wife, and the deduction she drew was that McKinley was responsible for all the hired girls having good homes and steady employment, and that the Federal Government was combining against her to keep her from getting help in the kitchen.
SHOOTING AT PITT’S CAMP
After breakfast on Wednesday morning, September 5, John Settle walked into Ben Moyer’s shack and says, “Good morning, Ben, are you ready to go to work?”
Ben said, “Yes, as soon as I lock my lunch box.” Ben, from the evidence, was arranging his lunch box, and having a revolver in it was fooling with it. The revolver had only one load in it, and this, it seems, Ben did not know. While fooling with the pistol, it was accidentally discharged, the ball striking John Settle in the forehead over the right eye and penetrating the brain.
Dr. Nicholas, the camp physician, first examined the wound, and then called Dr. Lambert from Durbin. The two doctors then examined the wound and pronounced it fatal.
In the meantime, Ben got alarmed and ran off. Major Hankins sent for Justice Gillispie, who, after examining John Settle on oath, issued a warrant for the arrest of Ben Moyer. Constable Burner, that night, arrested Ben and the next day brought him before the justice, when a preliminary trial was held. After hearing all the evidence on both sides, it was clearly proven that it was a case of accidental shooting, and Ben Moyer was discharged.
Major Hankins has in his employ 150 men. It is remarkable how kind he is to the men in his employ. He is law abiding in all things and saw that a thorough investigation was made in the shooting scrap in his camp.
DUNMORE
Messrs. Slaymaker, Cass and Lukes of New York and Philadelphia will be in our town this week.
H. P. McLaughlin was in town Monday evening for a burial outfit for Frank Hog-sett, who died at his home near Huntersville Monday morning. Frank was a splendid young man and will be greatly missed in his neighborhood.
W. K. Jackson jumped through his shirt collar – it’s an 8-pound boy.
The mudholes on Cheat Mountain are as deep as the snow drifts when Trotters carried the mail.
Fifteen wagon loads of peaches were hauled from John Beverages on Monday.
DIED
Frank Hogsett died at his home on Browns Creek September 3, 1900, aged 20 years, 2 months and 2 days.
His ailment was brain fever. He was a young man highly esteemed for good character, and his death is sincerely lamented. He worked hard, saved his money, and was a kind, true-hearted boy, beloved by all who knew him. He leaves a father, mother, two sisters and a large circle of friends to mourn their loss. How sad it was when the dear friends bent o’er the corpse to behold his face for the last time on earth. But why do they weep? We’ll all follow soon.
IS THAT SO?
“What brought you to prison?”
“Two constables, sir.”
“Yes, but I mean, had intemperance anything to do with it?”
“Yes, sir; they were both drunk.”
