CHAPTER XV
THE BLIND BABY
The same terrible suspicion which had entered Aunt Angie La Grange's mind when she overheard Flower's innocent words had occurred to Carolina, and as there seemed to be one of those sudden new-born bonds of sympathy between the beautiful old woman and the beautiful young girl, which sometimes spring into existence without warning, yet with good reason, as afterwards transpires, Carolina was not surprised to have Aunt Angie draw her aside after supper and say:
"Carolina, child, what did you think when you heard what Flower said about little Arthur?"
"I thought just what you thought, Aunt Angie, at first, then-"
"Then what?"
"Nothing."
"Now, Carol, you were going to say something! What was it? I am sure the thought that I am a comparative stranger to you stopped the words on your lips."
"I am afraid that you wouldn't understand what I was going to say, Aunt Angie, dear, and I don't want to antagonize you. I like you too much."
"Dear child, nothing that your silver tongue could utter could antagonize me after your sweet generosity to my daughter this afternoon. Oh, Carol, don't you think my mother-heart aches at not being able to dress my pretty girl in such fairy fabrics as you showed us? And then to think of your giving her that pink silk! Why, Peachie won't sleep a wink for a week, and I doubt if her mother does, either! Now she can go to the Valentine German in Savannah. You must go, too. I will arrange it. I-but my tongue is running away with me. Tell me what you were going to say."
"Well," said Carolina, hesitatingly, "you have heard that I am a Christian Scientist, haven't you?"
"Yes, dear, I have, and I must say that I deeply regret it. Not that I know anything about it, but-"
"That's the way every one feels who doesn't know about it," cried Carolina, earnestly; "but that is nothing but prejudice which will wear away. Indeed, indeed it will, Aunt Angie."
Mrs. La Grange shook her head.
"I am a dyed-in-the-wool Presbyterian, and I've fought, bled, and died for my religion in a family who believe that God created the Church of England first and then turned His attention to the creation of the earth, so you can't expect me to welcome a new fad, can you, my dear? But I beg your pardon, Carol. What were you going to say?"
"It was only this," said Carolina, gently. "That even if Flower's baby is blind to mortal sight, he is not blind in God's eyes. There he is perfect, for God, who is Incarnate Love, never created a blind or dumb baby."
Tears rushed suddenly to the old woman's eyes.
"Are you thinking of poor little Teddy Fitzhugh?" she whispered.
"Yes, I was."
"Oh, Carolina! If you could have seen his mother's anguish all these years! But you would have to be a mother yourself before you could even apprehend it."
"Yes, I suppose I would."
"And now," said the older woman, with that patient tightening of the lips with which so many Christian women prepare themselves to bear the heart-breaking calamities which they believe a tender Heavenly Father inflicts on those He loves, "I suppose I must steel my heart to see poor Flower writhe under a worse agony. Indeed, Carol, God's ways are hard to understand."
"Yes, God is such a peculiar sort of parent," observed Carolina. "He seems to do things with impunity, which if an earthly father did, the neighbours would lynch him."
Aunt Angie La Grange sat up with a spring of fright.
"Why, Carolina Lee! What sacrilege! You will certainly be punished by an avenging God for such blasphemy. You shock me, Carolina. You really do."
"Forgive me, Aunt Angie. I only meant to imply that the God I believe in is a God of such love that He never sends anything but good to His children."
"Then how do you get around that saying, 'Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth?'"
"There is authority for translating that word 'chasteneth,' 'instructeth.' But even if you leave it 'chasteneth,' it doesn't mean a life-long disfigurement or crippling of innocent babies. Supposing Peachie should disobey you, or even disgrace you, would you deliberately infect her with smallpox to destroy her beauty or send her into a train wreck to lame her or paralyze for life?"
Mrs. La Grange only looked into Carolina's eyes for reply, but her hands gripped the arms of her chair until her nails were white.
"Yet you are only her earthly-her human-her finite mother. How much greater capacity has the Infinite Heart for love!"
Mrs. La Grange stirred restlessly.
"It is beautiful," she breathed, "but-disquieting. It upsets all my old beliefs."
"'And good riddance to bad rubbish,' as we children used to say," said Carolina, smiling. Aunt Angie smiled in answer, but a trifle dubiously.
"Carolina," she said, "Moultrie told me-but of course you never said such a thing and I told him then that he must have misunderstood you-that Gladys Yancey was cured by Christian Science! Now, what did you say?"
"I said just that. She was cured by Christian Science."
"I don't believe it!" cried Aunt Angie. "Excuse me, dear child, for saying so. I know that you are truthful and that you believe it, but I don't. I'd have to see it done."
"If you saw Teddy Fitzhugh taught to speak plainly, would you believe?"
"My dear, I'd leave the Presbyterian Church and join the Christian Scientists so quickly my church letter would be torn by the way I'd snatch it."
Carolina laughed and squeezed Aunt Angie's hand, who added with a smile:
"I suppose you think I am as good as caught already, don't you?"
"I hope you are. You can't imagine how much peace it brings."
"Peace! It's something I never have had, child."
"Nor I. But I have it now."
"What does your religion compel you to give up? Peachie absolutely refuses to join the church because it won't allow dancing, and the child loves to dance better than anything in the world. They tell me, too, that she dances like a fairy." Aunt Angie pronounced it "fayry."
"Why, that is one of the best things about Christian Science. It requires you to give up no innocent pleasure. It only cautions one against indulging to excess in anything. Dancing, card-playing, games, – why, some of the best card-players I know are Christian Scientists, but they don't lose their tempers when they lose a game and they don't cheat to win. In fact, one of the most graceful things I have ever seen done was when two ladies tied for the prize-a beautiful gold vase-at a bridge party Addie gave just before she closed her house, and the lady who won had played coolly, well, and won by merit. The other flung herself back in her chair with an exclamation, showing by her suffused face and clenched hands every sign of ill-temper. My sister-in-law brought the prize to the winner, who, with the prettiest grace imaginable, thanked her and then presented it, by Addie's permission, to the vexed lady who had lost. You should have seen the recipient's face! Surprise, humiliation, and cupidity struggled almost audibly for supremacy. She protested feebly, but ended by taking it. A number of others gathered around, attracted by the unusual scene, and suddenly the owner of the vase said to the giver of it: 'I would like to know what church you go to.' 'Well, as none of you know, you may guess,' she answered. They guessed Baptist, Methodist, Unitarian, Episcopal, and finally the recipient of the vase said: 'No, you are all wrong. I believe she is a Christian Scientist, because no one but a Christian Scientist would give up a gold vase!'"
"I like that," said Aunt Angie, promptly. "And I think the churches make a mistake in forbidding innocent pleasures. Oh, why don't they dwell on the good instead of squabbling over the bad?"
"You have described one of the chief differences between the Christian Science and the other churches," cried Carolina. "Why, Aunt Angie, you are a ready-made Scientist!"
"Am I? Well, we shall see. Now tell me when you can go to see Flower. Was Moultrie able to buy Araby for you?"
"No, Mr. Mazyck refused to sell her. But Moultrie has lent me Scintilla until he can find another good horse for me."
"But you especially wanted Araby, didn't you?"
"Yes, because she is a direct descendant of the sire of my grandfather's favourite saddle-horse. And she is simply perfect, Aunt Angie."
"I am afraid Barney Mazyck is hopeless. If he wants a thing, he wants it and is going to keep it."
"I know; but I have not despaired of getting her yet. Perhaps I am just as bent upon getting her as Mr. Barnwell Mazyck is upon keeping her."
"And in that case-"
"Well, I wouldn't put any money on Mr. Mazyck!" laughed Carolina.
In the slight pause which ensued, Carolina could see that Mrs. La Grange was ill at ease. Suddenly she turned to the girl and said:
"My dear, doubtless you think it strange that I do not know beyond a doubt the state of my own little grandson's sight, but-"
"I know," said Carolina, gently. "I have heard."
"Who told you? Some stranger?"
"No, Moultrie told me."
"Ah, then you have heard the truth! It is a terrible grief to us, Carolina. Think of the child! I do not know who my own grandson is descended from!"
"But you will know," said Carolina, earnestly. "And soon. I-we have a right to expect God's harmony in our lives."
Mrs. La Grange looked at her curiously, but only said, with a sigh:
"I am sure I hope you may be right."
It was arranged that Carolina was to meet Mrs. La Grange at Flower's the next afternoon at three o'clock.
"Can't you go in the morning?" asked Mrs. La Grange.
"I have an appointment with the architect from Charleston and the builders at Guildford at ten. We wouldn't get through in time, I am afraid, for there will be so much to discuss."
"Won't you be too tired?"
"I never get tired. There is rest in action for me."
Mrs. La Grange shook her head, but not in disapproval.
"I hope I am going to like it. If I like all of it as well as I do the sample bits you have fed me with, I think, as you say, you may find that I have been a Scientist all my life without knowing it."
Mrs. La Grange looked into the girl's pure, beautiful face scrutinizingly, as if to learn her secret of happiness, and, as she did so, she was surprised to see it suffused by a blush which rose in delicate waves to her hair. Looking about in surprise for a cause, Mrs. La Grange saw her son Moultrie approaching. Could Carolina have recognized his step without seeing him, and was that blush for Moultrie?
The question could not be answered at once, nor did she see them together the next day, for Carolina was late in keeping her appointment, and, by the time she arrived, the awful truth was known. Mrs. La Grange had been so overcome that Moultrie was obliged to take her home.
The moment Carolina rode up to the house, she knew that something had happened. The house, a mere cabin, was ominously quiet, and no one came to meet her.
She dismounted hurriedly, fastened Scintilla to the fence, and ran up the steps. No one answered her knock. She pushed open the door and entered.
At first she saw no one, but presently she heard heavy breathing, and, crouching on the floor, in the darkest corner of the room, she saw Flower, holding the still form of her baby in her arms. Her posture and the glare in her eyes were tigerish.
With a low cry, Carolina sprang to her side.
"Oh, Flower, darling! What is the matter with your baby?"
"You may take him," said Flower, dully. "You care! You cared yesterday. I can tell. She only cares because Arthur is a La Grange. You will care just because he a helpless little blind baby. Oh! oh!"
"Not blind, Flower! Don't say it. Don't think it. Your baby sees."
"No, Cousin Carol. You are good and kind, but Mrs. La Grange made me see for myself. We took a candle and held it so close to his eyes we nearly burned his little face-"
"You?" cried Carolina. "Were you in the room?"
"That's what Moultrie said, but you don't either of you know. When you have a child of your own, you will both understand that a mother can't keep away. She must know the worst, and she must be there when it happens."
"Oh, poor Flower! Poor child!" cried Carolina, weeping unrestrainedly. She cuddled the baby's face in her neck, and Flower watched her apathetically. Flower's face was suffused from stormy weeping, but she had wept herself out.
"And you had to bear this all alone, poor lamb!"
"I wanted to be alone! I wanted her to go. They meant to be kind, but they don't love me, and they don't love my little baby. I would rather be alone. Who could I send for-the priest? When he predicted it?"
"What did he predict?" asked Carolina, quickly.
"He was very angry because we went to New York to be married. He lost fifty dollars by it. That is what he charges even poor people like me. And because I married a heretic, and because I was not married by a priest, he cursed me and my offspring. Then-" she broke off suddenly and cried: "Oh, why do I tell it all? Why do I trust even you?"
"Because you know that I can help you," said Carolina, gravely.
"No one can help me-not even God!"
"Say what you were going to," urged Carolina.
"Well, the child is bewitched. Every time there is a thunder-storm, or if I am even left alone with the baby, like to-day, when I let Aunt Tempy have her afternoon-there she is now!"
With a shriek of terror she pointed to the window, and Carolina looked just in time to see a dark face disappear from view. She ran to the door, but nothing could be seen. Not a sound could be heard.
"It is the voodoo!" whispered Flower. "That face always comes. Once I saw it in the room, bending over the cradle when the baby was asleep. But I never can catch her. Aunt Tempy has seen her, so has Winfield. She has cast an evil spirit over my baby."
"Her face looked kind-it even looked worried," thought Carolina to herself, but she said nothing to Flower. She only sat rocking the sleeping baby, wiping the tears which rolled down her cheeks at the sight of the mother's anguish.
"Flower," she said, suddenly, "did you ever see Gladys Yancey before Miss Sue took her North?"
"Heaps of times."
"Did you ever hear how she was cured?"
"Why, Moultrie told Winfield that it was a new kind of religion that did it, and Winfield just hollered and laughed."
"Well, if I could prove to you that your baby could be made to see, would you holler and laugh?"
"I reckon I wouldn't. I'd kiss your feet."
"The only trouble," murmured Carolina, half to herself, "is that you are a Roman Catholic. We do not like to interfere with them."
"I am not a Roman Catholic," said Flower. "The lady who brought me up, and whom I was taught to believe was my aunt, was a Catholic, but I never was baptized. I believe Father Hennessey knows who I am, and that, if he would, he could clear up the mystery of my birth and give me back my happiness. But he never will until I join his church. He told me so."
"Is he an old man?" asked Carolina.
"Oh, a very old man. He must be over eighty,"
A slight pause ensued. Then Carolina said: "Would you like to hear of this new religion?"
"If it will give my baby eyes, Cousin Carolina, how can you even stop to ask?"
"Oh, my dear, it is only because we are taught to go cautiously, – to be sure our help is wanted before we offer."
"Well, offer it to me. I want your help with all my soul!"
She rose from her corner and came and sat at Carolina's feet. Something of Carolina's sincerity, which always appealed to people, moved her to believe that Carolina could help her. Flower's mind, too, though it may sound like an anomaly, had been trained by her aunt's Catholicism to believe in signs and wonders, and her superstitions had been carefully educated. Therefore, when a more analytical mind might have hesitated to believe that material help for a supposed hopeless affliction could come from religion, instead of from a knife or a drug, which even the most skeptical may see and handle and thus believe, Flower, by her very childishness, held up a receptive mind for the planting of the seed of an immortal truth.
The gravity of the situation caused Carolina a moment's wrestle with error. The burning eyes of the young mother fastened on Carolina's face with such agonizing belief, – the feeble flutterings of the sleeping baby in her arms terrified her for a brief second. Then she lifted her heart to the boundless source of supply for every human need, and in a moment she felt quieted and could begin.
"Flower," she said, "do you believe in God?"
"Of course I do."
"Did you ever read your Bible?"
"No."
"Have you one?"
"No."
"Will you promise to read it if I will give you one?"
"I will do whatever you want me to."
Carolina hesitated a moment.
"Will your husband object to your trying Christian Science with the baby?"
"I don't know-yes, I suppose he will. What shall we do?"
"What will he want to do when he first learns that the baby is blind?"
"I reckon he'll want to have Doctor Dodge see him."
"There is no objection to that. Then what will he do?"
"There isn't anything we can do just now, Cousin Carol. We have had a dreadful time even to live since we were married. And look what a shanty we live in! Not fit for a negro. And Winfield a La Grange! Of course, if the crops are better next year we might be able to take him away to consult some big doctor, but this winter we can't do anything at all."
"I don't know what to do," said Carolina. "You ought to get your husband's consent first."
"Well, what do you want me to do? Does your treatment commence right away?"
"It is already begun."
"Why, how? You haven't done anything that I could see. Do you pray?"
"Not to any virgin or saint, Flower."
"No, I know that Protestants pray to God. Is that what you want me to do?"
"I want you first to have a talk with Winfield and Moultrie-"
"Moultrie will help me!" interrupted Flower. "I'll ask him to talk to Winfield."
"Well, do that. Then if he says you may try it, I want you not to tell another soul, especially don't let Aunt Tempy or any of the negroes know a word about it. I want you to get up about twelve o'clock every night and light your candle, and put it where it shines directly in the baby's eyes. It can't hurt him. Then read the whole of the New Testament, – just as much every night as you can for one hour, believing that everything which was true of Jesus and His disciples then, can be and is true of His disciples on earth to-day, and that, if any one of us could ever be as pure and holy as He was, that we could do the one thing which is denied us yet, – that is, raise the dead! Will you?"
"Indeed, I will."
"Then every night I will treat your baby's eyes by mind-healing, which I will explain to you a little later. In the meantime, you watch very closely to see the first indication which Arthur's eyes give of the light's making him stir, for that will show that his darkness is lifting and that he is beginning to see."
Flower raised herself up and clung to Carolina's knees and buried her face in her dress, weeping bitterly.
"Oh, oh! Don't think I am unhappy. I am crying because I think you can do it. How long will it take?"
"No one can say. It may only take one treatment, or it may take years. 'According to your faith be it unto you.'"
Just then, as Carolina rose to go, the baby wakened, and Flower reached for him and pressed him to her bosom in a passion of grief and hope.
"Look!" she whispered to Carolina, "you can tell from the very expression of his little eyes that he can't see. I remember now that once the sun was shining right into his eyes, and he kept them open, but I didn't notice it at the time."
"Remember this, Flower. We think that he can't see. But in God's eyes he is perfect. With Him there is no blindness nor sickness nor sin nor sorrow. He will take away your grief. He will wipe away all tears from your eyes."
CHAPTER XVI
A LETTER FROM CAROLINA
"'THE BATH,' ENTERPRISE, S.C.,"January 27, 19-
"MY DEAR MR. HOWARD: – If only I could drop in on you this evening and make my report in person, what couldn't I tell! You would laugh if you knew why we call our house The Bath. But first, have I ever told you that we have a house? Well, Guildford is so far from even Whitehall, which is the nearest place we visited, that I lost too much time in coming and going. I must have been eight hours in the saddle some days, and I didn't get on fast enough to suit my leaping ambition, – and-bathrooms are scarce in the country, so Cousin Lois and I decided to build a model cabin or quarters before we started the house, and live on the place. There was already a windmill, so I ordered a porcelain tub in Charleston, and built my house around it. Cousin Lois preëmpts it most of the time, but I get my full share, and it is a luxury. Did you ever try going without a bathroom? Try it. It will make you 't'ink ob yo' marcies,' as the negroes say.
"Oh, we are so happy! Every day some of the dear neighbours who knew Guildford in its prime ride or drive over to tell me little forgotten quirks of the blessed place, and to assure me that I am copying it faithfully. Cousin Lois calls it curiosity, but I think it is interest. But the primitive methods in vogue in the South-well, you simply would not believe me unless you saw them. For example, at the turpentine plant at Schoville, which I will tell you more of later, my engineer found them ladling out the crude turpentine by hand, when you know it ought to be piped, and half the time this cheap negro labour, which they hire to save machinery, is drunk or striking, which often shuts down the plant for days at a time, – ten days at Christmas always. Machinery may be expensive, but, at least, it doesn't get drunk, and by means of it a man may run his business, even in the South, regularly, and so build up a reputation for reliability, which, honestly, Mr. Howard, nobody down here seems to know the meaning of, as we understand it! Any excuse serves. Just make your excuse-that's all. It not only seems to relieve the conscience of the purveyor, but satisfies the consumer as well. In Georgia it is a State law not to move freight on Sunday. Imagine that, added to the railroad service as it stands! And in a certain town in Middle Georgia, the fire-engines are drawn by oxen. I enclose the kodak I took of it, for I know you won't believe me else. One thing the South needs more than anything else is some of our Northern Italian labour. Then the negroes will see what it really is to work.
"But I am running away with myself.
"I shall skip all I can, and only tell the essentials.
"After we left Whitehall, nothing would do but we must pay a round of visits among the Lees and La Granges, which we did, staying as short a time as possible with each, partly because I could not properly attend to my work, and partly because of the heart-breaking poverty of all my poor dear relatives. If you could only see their bravery, their pride, and their wholly absurd fury at the bare suggestion that ease and comfort might come to them from admitting Northern capital! I think if they knew that my money comes through you, they would force me to starve with them rather than be indebted to a – Yankee. The ladies don't use that word with their lips, but their eyes say it. As it is, they think I am still selling my jewels. And I don't contradict them, simply because there is no use in giving them pain. Their hatred of the North is something which cannot be eradicated in a day. It is a factor in business which blocks the path of every well-wisher of the South, and is an entity to be reckoned with just as palpably as credit. The man who ignores it makes a mistake which sooner or later will bring him up with a jerk. I dwell upon this, because, if we form the syndicate which you propose, it must be managed craftily, and I know you will not disregard my warning.
"As an example of it, let me tell what has befallen the plant for making wood turpentine at Schoville, Georgia. It is a fine, modern, up-to-date plant of the steam process, backed and controlled by Judd Brothers & Morgan, of Brooklyn. Their representative approached my counsel, offering to sell. The Brooklyn firm own fifty-one per cent. of the stock, and the rest is taken by citizens of Schoville. I sent my man, Donohue, down to investigate the process, intending, if I didn't buy, to organize a similar company and operate under their patents, as I find theirs, if not the best, is at least a satisfactory process, and turns out a pure water-white turpentine with a specific gravity of 31.70. And Donohue asserts that by the use of steam he can eliminate the objectionable odour. He has been in the employ of both the Schoville and the Lightning companies and is a valuable man, though not strictly honest. Donohue was satisfied that there was something wrong at Schoville, and advised me to hold off. He reported the plant out of repair, although the books showed money in plenty supplied by the owners. Donohue then visited the plant at Lightning, Georgia, and found everything all right. It has since transpired that the foreman of the plant at Schoville, a cracker named Leakin, had deliberately shipped crude turpentine, which of course was of rank odour and off colour, to the factors at Savannah, who shipped it to Germany and South America without giving it a very careful examination. As is usual with these men, they were too slack to make the thorough examination before making shipment which the law requires, and paid over an advance of thirty-five cents a gallon to Leakin like innocent little lambs. Of course, the inevitable occurred. Buenos Ayres and Berlin not only refused to pay, but returned the consignment, and the Savannah factors now refuse to touch wood turpentine at any price.
"It seems that, when the Northern owners sent their representative down to investigate, Leakin frankly told him that he did not intend to make money for any – Yankees. They thereupon swore out a warrant for his arrest, but he wrecked the plant at night and was hurried out of town by his relatives.
"Now, so far from discouraging me, this serves my purpose well. For with sixty per cent. profit on the manufacture of wood turpentine on paper (as per my previous reports), which cuts to between forty and fifty in actual operation, it is one of the future industries of the South. Of course the little plant I propose to build at Guildford or near by will only be a mouthful. I figure that between ten and twelve millions of dollars would corner the turpentine market, and then put the price of orchard turpentine so high that it would practically be off the market. Then we could force the consumers to take wood turpentine in its place, and in this way show them that it will do the same work and bring the same results as the regular orchard turpentine. They are afraid of it now, so they must be reduced by compulsion to giving it a fair trial. I bought ten barrels of wood turpentine made by the company at Lightning, and sent a small sample to every paint and varnish manufacturer in the United States, with a letter giving them the chemical analysis and asking the recipient to give it a fair trial. About one-third replied that it seemed satisfactory, and sent me orders for from five to ten barrels for a trial, but they want it at about ten cents per gallon less than the orchard. It seems that no one will pay within ten cents of the regular market price. I turned these orders over to the Lightning company on a commission, and am making quite a neat little sum out of it, though I never thought of that end of the proposition when I sent out the samples. I tried the experiment to see what sort of a market I could look for. There is no reason why this wood turpentine should not be shipped and sold as regular turpentine, and one good strong corner on the market will bring this about.
"To continue my investigations, I want you to organize a small company, giving me control. I shall erect a twenty-cord plant between Enterprise and Guildford, within wagon distance of the wood-supply of the estate. Recollect that this process uses only the fallen trees and stumps of the long-leafed pine, which are reduced to a sawdust, and this is then put into the retorts. Steam is then injected, which tries out the turpentine, which is then run into the refining still.
"I can arouse no interest whatever among my relatives. They simply think I am crazy. I even suggested to my uncle, Judge Fanshaw Lee, of Charleston, the simple proposition of joining me in the purchase of a stump-puller to clear his land for rice and cotton, but he wouldn't do it, and continues to plant in fields dotted with old stumps. But he will rent it from me if I buy one! So please order immediately the most improved sort, and consign it to me at Enterprise, S.C.
"Even though I am a Southerner by blood, and anxious to improve the country in general, and my relatives in particular, I work under inconceivable difficulties. I sent my lawyer to one of the biggest factors in Savannah, by the name of James Oldfield, to suggest a combine to corner turpentine, offering to raise nine million dollars, if he and his friends would raise one million. Legare reported that 'Oldfield's head hit the ceiling' at the mere suggestion. But, upon being drawn out, Oldfield admitted that twenty years ago he had entertained a similar idea, although, of course, at that time not for the purpose of introducing wood turpentine. But his ideas were on too narrow-gauge a plan to admit the suggestion now. So we shall simply be obliged to do it without him.
"It seems to me that, with the South in the mental attitude it now holds, it will need some radical means, such as a turpentine corner, to force Southern landowners to reinvest money in their own property. Many a man is land poor with thousands of dollars' worth of stumps and fallen trees on his land which are suitable for wood turpentine. In order to supply the demand, the orchard people are obliged each year to find two million acres of virgin forest for their operations. After bleeding these for three years, the lumber men then enter and cut the timber, thus leaving millions of fallen trees and stumps, all of which are suitable for our process. Now, it would take years to educate these landowners in the process of extracting turpentine from this stumpage, while a corner in orchard turpentine would, in three months, turn the attention of half the chemists and inventors in the United States toward bettering present processes and discovering new ones. Every newspaper in the land would give this New Southern Industry millions of dollars' worth of free advertising, and inside of ten years the whole South would blossom as a rose.
"I have hinted at this before, but have not explained it because the time was not ripe. Now, after six months of untiring investigation by trustworthy agents, and after bitter personal experience, I find that no help whatsoever can be expected from the South. Rather they will fight us at every step, like children compelled to take medicine. Did you ever see a health officer try to vaccinate a negro settlement on the outbreak of a smallpox epidemic?
"You understand me, do you not? Tell me if I make my point sufficiently clear. I propose to corner turpentine, not for the purpose of raising the price, but to take the orchard stuff completely off the market until we have forced the public to give wood turpentine a trial. It has been demonstrated in every department that the patented product will do the work of the orchard, not only just as well, but in some cases, as that of paint, it actually holds the colour better.
"If you are still interested, let me know and I will explain my developed plan. Meanwhile I welcome suggestions from you, or any of your interested parties.
"With devoted love to all in your dear house, I am,
Always affectionately yours,"CAROLINA LEE."