The Lampasas Daily Leader. (Lampasas, Tex.), Vol. 6, No. 1564, Ed. 1 Wednesday, March 24, 1909 Page: 2 of 4
This newspaper is part of the collection entitled: Lampasas Area Newspaper Collection and was provided to The Portal to Texas History by the Lampasas Public Library.
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GOVERNOR OF WASHINGTON
Samuel G. Cosgrove, the new governor ot
the state of Washington, is a native of Ohio,
having been born in Tuscarawas county, April
10, 1847. He was formally inducted into office
in the presence of the joint assembly at Olym-
pia the other day, the inauguration having
been delayed because of the illness of the gov-
ernor, who passed ten weeks in Paso Robles,
Cal., on that account.
Pack of this simple announcement is the
story of a campaign of 30 years with a single
ambition, politically, and that to be the chief
executive of the most northwesterly common
wealth in the union, Mr. Cosgrove never per-
mitted the dazzle of minor office to blind him
to his goal, nor would he be turned aside from
the prize, upon which, as a boy, he had set his
heart. He had offers of the lieutenant-governorship and congressman of eastern
Washington, but declined both. The honor which he courted was coy, but he
persistently refused to abandon his suit. He won against great odds, which
makes the victory sweeter.
Mr. Cosgrove is a resident of Pomeroy, Garfield county, 187 miles south-
west of Spokane. He has lived there 22 years.
Growing up in Defiance county, O., he enlisted as a member of a regiment
of Ohio volunteers in 1863, at the age of 16 years, and served until discharged
in 1865. Next year he entered the Wesleyan university, among his class-
mates being Charles W. Fairbanks, vice-president of the United States.
Graduating in 1873, he studied law at Woodsfield, O., and was admitted to
practice in 1875. He remained in his native state till 1880, when he was
touched with the western fever and he started for Nevada. Then he went to
the California coast and settled in Washington'two years later.
When the town government of Pomeroy was organized under an early
territorial charter he was elected a member of its first council and later
served the town five times as mayor.
Mr. Cosgrove started his campaign in the summer of 1907. At the pri-
maries he polled the largest number of first and second choice vQtes, defeat
ing Gov. Albert E. Mead and ex-Gov. Henry McBride, neither of whom
received the required 40 per cent, of first choice votes to nominate. The
campaign was managed by his son.
OLD HARVARD GRADUATE
Harvard’s second oldest graduate, Dr.
James Lloyd Wellington of Swansea, Mass.,
recently celebrated his ninety-first birthday.
Dr. Wellington is a native of Templeton,
and he entered Harvard college in 1834. He
recalls distinctly his first meeting with Josiah
Quincy, then president of the corporation, and
somewhat feared by the freshmen for his aus-
terity until they had made his acquaintance.
“What is your name?” was the first ques-
tion addressed to the student. “Wellington, ah?
I hope that you will be a better man than
your father was,” he added, with affected se-
cerity.
The father was a Harvard man of the class
of 1802. afterward becoming a Unitarian min-
ister. Educators so distinguished as Prof. Ben-
jamin Pierce, Jared Sparks, afterward president of the college; Cornelius
C. Felton, also a president; Henry W. Longfellow and Edward T. Channing, a
brother of the distinguished divine of the same name, were members of the
faculty.
The physician has lived in Swansea for 65 years, opening an office there
shortly after graduating from the medical school. He was the only doctor
in the town at the time, and his services were in demand for a radius of 15
miles. Everybody came to know him, and he came to know everybody. Pub-
lic life had no attractions for him, though he was greatly interested in town
affairs, and the only time he would permit himself to be an official in Swansea
was when he allowed himself to be elected a member of the school committee.
Five years ago he decided to retire from practice.
TRINITY’S MISSIONARY PASTOR
Rev. William Wilkinson, who is to take
charge of St. John's chapel as a missionary
pastor of Trinity, is best known in New York
bishop of Wall street,” because for
he has held open-air meetings in Wall
for the benefit of the brokers and bank-
ers and their employes.
He is very well known in London, where
he was priest at the bishop of London’s home,
Fulham palace, last June. When the bishop of
London was in New York he px-eached for Mr.
Wilkinson in Wall street.
Mr. Wilkinson is known not only as a
preacher of great force, but as an author. He
wrote the history of the general convention
of the Protestant Episcopal chui’ch in 1895.
Mr. Wilkinson will go into residence at
Trinity May 1 as "special evangelistic preacher for the parish of Trinity.”
He will carry out the plans of the rector and vestry to enlarge the work of
the parish and increase .its efficiency and power in all possible ways.
FIRST COMMONER OF CANADA
Charles Marcel, the fii’St commoner of Can-
ada, is entitled to that unofficial title by reason
of his selection as speaker of the Dominion
parliament, succeeding Hon. R. F. Sutherland
of Windsor in that important position. In liis
eight years of service in parliament, Speaker
Marcel has made an excellent reputation, and
is considered one of the strongest among the
Liberal leaders.
Although he represents the constituency of
Bonaventure in parliament,-th,e new speaker
resides in Montreal, in illustx-ation of the fact
that Canada, like the mother country, does not
require a member of parliament to live in the
district he represents. Born in St. Scholas-
tique, the “cradle of Liberalism,” in 1860, Mar-
cel engaged in the profession of journalism at
the age of 20. Going to Montreal, he was connected for a number of years
with the Montreal Gazette.
First entering political life in 1897, Marcel contested Gaspe, Quebec, fox
the legislature, his opponent being E. J. Flynn, then premier of Quebec. It
required a recount to show Marcel defeated by 11 votes. Dux-ing this cam-
paign he made a close canvass of the district upon snowshoes. He then
tried unsuccessfully for parliament in Magdalena island. In the general
election in 1900, fate was more kind to the aspiring journalist, and he was
elected from Bonaventure with a majority of 149 votes. Four years later he
increased this lead to 892, and in l&at October’s election his majority wae
1*262.
With the World’s
Great Humorists
Selections from the Writings of the
Markers of Mirth.
!'Best Kjiot&n
Strange Origin of Proverbs
By Stanley Waterloo
There is nothing more curious or,
in some instances, more astounding, to
the student than the x’evelations made
in a study of the origin of proverbs.
Very long before the eastern sage,
Abou Ben There, had written the an-
cient oriental tale which, translat-
ed, is called “Her Majesty, the Queen,”
had declared that “It is unlucky to
sleep thirteen in a bed” and thus
started the nefai'ious unlucky thirteexx
legend, proverbs, with their accom-
panying superstitions, began, and con-
cerning them there is, perhaps, noth-
ing more interesting than the story of
the first proverb ever bonx. This it is:
Some hundred and fifty thousand
years ago, long before the flood, one of
the wax'iest and generally capable of
the cave men of his time chanced also
to be, and excessively so, the hairiest
of his tribe, of which all were hairy.
The cave men usually acquired their
names from some personal peculiarity
and thus it came that, so dense was
the growth upon the body of this par-
ticular individual, it suggested to his
fellow beings of the period the close,
mossy growth about the bases of the
great conifers, the trees amid which
they lived and hunted. Thus it came
that he was known as Moss.
So vigorous of body and acute of
mind was Moss—considering the peri-
od—that even when aged 70 he had
slight difficulty in winning for his
sixth wife the belle of the tribe, the
charming Little Ear. His first wife
had died a natural death; his second
wife, wandering too casually into the
forest, had appeased the appetite of a
monstrous tiger of the kind known to
scientists to-day as Sabre Tooth; the
third, who could not swim very well,
but was always trying it, was gobbled
up, or x-ather down, by some sort of
river monster; the fourth had disap-
peared mysteriously, and the fifth, be-
cause of her lack of all botanical ixxfor-
mation, had eaten too rapturously and
fully of the enticing berries of a plant
known in these modern times as night-
shade.
Yet, somehow, old Moss could not
“Old Moss Came Swinging Rapidly
Along the Path.”
have been considei’ed an unlucky hus-
band, else he would have been unlike-
ly to have won Little Ear (possibly
her father, Big Club, may have had
something to do with it) whom he
took to his cave the next day after the
episode of the berries, even though
the more or less blushing bride was
already half promised to Roarer, a
young man prominent among the cave
people,.and as vigorous as he was vi-
cious. Things seethed, of course.
There was a path sometimes taken
by eld Moss when he started on a
hunting trip which led beside a slight
but exceedingly stiff slope, almost a
fall, at the crest of which lay a hxige
rock. Behind this boulder one day
crouched Roai’ei’,
Old Moss came swinging rapidly along
the path, flintheaded spear in hand
and exhibiting, supposedly, in his face
some of the rapture of the excessively
axxcient honeymoon. Just as the ap-
pi’oaching and unsuspecting hunter
reached what Roarer deemed the right
spot, the watcher bent and braced and
heaved with his broad shoulder and
down like leaping death thundered the-
boulder.
And Roarer, in his mui’derous ex-
citement, had strained and heaved too
lustily and far! As the rock went he-
lost his footing and pitched after it,
rolling down the pathway of its very
wake. Even in mid air old Moss per-
ceived him beneath and, as he land-
ed himself, there was swift and un-
necessarily persistent spearing. Roar-
er was of the memories, and that
night the wolves would eat him—
simple strenuous times!
Then it was that the fine old man be-
came enthusiastic and excited. He
leaped up and down and
yelped aloud till the sound reached
from along the pathway.
“Hi-yah! Hi-yah! A rolling stone
gathers no Moss!”
Very curious and interesting and.
educational, certainly, are the facts,
derived from a study of the origin of
the old proverbs.
(Copyright, 1909, by W. G. Chapman.)
A Hard Luck Tale
By Norman
“Talking abottt tough luck, and so
-*o on,” remarked the thin man as he
jabbed his lower limbs through the
pickets of the hotel veranda and
yawned widely, “reminds me of a fun-
ny r.un of circumstances that connect-
ed with me a while back. I was called
down to a southern Minnesota lake by
the sickness of an aunt, and while
there got wind of the local spoils
making prepax-ations for the opening
of the bass season.
“Next morning was an ideal day and
I was there—bright and early. As I
was shoving off in my skiff I observed
a tall, rawboned fellowr protrude from
a bunch of bushes a hundred steps up
the beach and take a squint at me.
“I very naturally concluded that this
was a warden, and I had no doubt that
tcMtny-— /
“Not a Bay Nor a Cove Was in Sight.”
under the influence of that magnifier
of his I looked about twice the size
at a horse and twice as natural. But
I pulled out into the lake and looked
around in search of a bay or a cove
that might shelter me from that mer-
ciless telescope. Not a bay nor a cove
was in sight.
“Well, I tossed in my hook and was
just looking around into the business
end of that telescope when—whish!
something grabbed it and struck out
toward deep water in a thrilling man-
ner. I tended to business for the next
few minutes and I had my work cut
out too, for the fellow on my hook
was a thoroughbred.
“As I was getting my breath back
I caught the reflection of that infernal
telescope and the cold sweat began to
ooze out of my scalp, and percolate
towards my collar. I realized at once
that the fellow had me focused right
down to a gnat’s feathers and—well,
I hate to tell what I did but might as
H. Crowell.
well confess. It was cowardly, per-
haps, but I couldn’t get away from
that telescope, you see. I adjusted xny
pocket scale and weighed my fish. He
was a dandy—just an even five
pounds. Then I picked the old fel-
low up by the tail, held him ostenta-
tiously aloft and heaved him back in-
to his native element. Then—I cussed
a little under my breath and looked
as pleased as possible—for the tele-
scope was still dead-centered on me
all the time.
“I was getting rather lonesome
when, as I was passing the identical
spot where I landed my big bass, I
got another strike. It was a glorious
scrap, gents, and for a minute I
thought my tackle was a goner but in
about ten minutes 1 weai-ied the boy
and pulled him in. I weighed him—
five/pounds and half an ounce.
yWell, back he went and I put on
my third frog. All quiet for 20 min-
utes and then I i-owed back that way
again. Kerswish! Away shot my line
andjl made a mental resolve to anchor
rigat there for the rest of the sea-
son.
“But I noticed one strange thing
about those bass—the larger they got
the less gamey they were. I landed
the last fellow in about 40 seconds of
easy work. I threw in my twenty-first
frog hoping to get hold of a smaller
and more sporty fish. But in a moment
something took hold and hung on just
like a sack of wet sand. I reeled in
and made a few unkind remarks
thinking I had hooked a mud turtle.
“The sport was too tame for me
and I stopped to think a bit. I was
weax’y of dragging in huge bass with
no more life in them than in a water-
logged pair of pants. There was
something wrong. I recalled a famil-
iar look about the last bass—it star-
tled me. I could have sworn I had
seen that face before. A horrible sus-
picion crept over me, gents, and in
feverish haste I threw in my hook to
fathom the mystery. In about two
seconds he had fastened on and I
snaked him in.
“Well, it was the same bass—I
counted 22 perforations where my
hook had caught him. He was full
of frogs, and to save time I took mf
remaining two and crammed them
down his throat. Then I tossed him
overboard and rowed for shore. And
would you believe me, gents, that
bass swam alongside all the way,
sometimes so close I could reach out
and pat him. And the man with the
telescope wasn’t a warden after all—
wasn’t that tough?”
(Copyright, 1909, by W. G. Chapman.)
An Experience
By Thomas
“It has come.”
“What has come?” asked Mrs. Gan-
son, wonderingly, for she had been
looking at Easter hats all the morning
and was in a dazed condition.
“Wh)-, the piece of furniture I or-
dered. It is a wonderful idea. It
comes in pieces, all separate, with di-
rections how to put it together. Don’t
you remember the day I wrote for it?
Ah, now I shall have a merry time. I
have wrnnted to take an aftexmoon off
at a job like this for a long while.”
“Isn’t this gi'eat!” he exclaimed, as
he got all the parts togethei*. “Here
are the printed directions. Let’s see.
Begin with number one, and—”
“What is it?” asked' Mrs. Ganson.
“It’s a chair, you xiinny. Just what
I ha,ve been longing to loll away the
evening in for so long—a great easy,
comfortable chair. That must be the
bottom piece. See how thick it is.”
“I don’t believe it is a chair at all,”
said Mrs. Ganson. “It looks to me
like a table. They must have sent you
the wrong thing.”
“Nothing of the sort. Just wait un-
til I begin to build it up, and then
you will see.”
Mrs. Ganson, disappearing in the
house, was, however, so filled with cu-
L. Masscn.
riosity that she came back in a few
“How are you getting on?”
Ganson rose up slowly—for his
moments.
back was almost broken—and waved
a buimished slat in the air.
“Do you know,” he whispered
hoarsely, “what I would do with the
mouse-colored idiot that sent me this
thing—the fiend who has spent his
awful ingenuity in trying to invent
some torture for the human mind to
lose itself on? Oh, maybe I wouldn’t
beat him to a jelly! For heaven’s
sake, woman, get that hammer.”
Mrs. Ganson went after it. But as
hers was the usual household, no ham-
mer, of course, was in sight. She
looked in drawer and on shelf. Finally,
after a long search, she discovered it,
and trexnbling with anxiety, sped forth
to find her husband.
A bright blaze met her eye.
Ganson was poking up the flames.
“It’s all right,” he shouted, with a
cunning smile which only comes to
those in the last stages. “It may be a
chair or it may be a table—it’s all
one to me. I’m having some fun out
of it. My only regret is that the
villain who sent it to me isn’t sitting
on top.”
(Copyright, 1908, by W. G. Chapman.)
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Vernor, J. E. The Lampasas Daily Leader. (Lampasas, Tex.), Vol. 6, No. 1564, Ed. 1 Wednesday, March 24, 1909, newspaper, March 24, 1909; Lampasas, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth910953/m1/2/?q=%22~1~1%22~1: accessed July 15, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Lampasas Public Library.