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About The Montanian (Choteau, Mont.) 1890-1901 | View This Issue
The Montanian (Choteau, Mont.), 25 Aug. 1893, located at <http://montananewspapers.org/lccn/sn85053033/1893-08-25/ed-1/seq-1/>, image provided by MONTANA NEWSPAPERS, Montana Historical Society, Helena, Montana.
VOL. 4. CHOTEAU, TETON COUNTY, MONTANA, FRIDAY, AUGUST 25, L893. NO. 16. wesmn P R O P E S S I O N T A I j . S.‘ H- DRAKE, M.D- PH YSICIA N &. S U R G E O N , Offioa ovar sa n k o f Chotaau. CHOTEAU,- - MONTANA. J A M R 'S SULQRÔYffi, A T T O R N E Y AT LAW, CHOTEAU. MONT. Admitted to piatice in Land . Pension and s e< Patent Claims before the Interior Derpartment Land , Water , and Irrigation Rights a Speci alty. All Legal Papers and Collections given care ful and prompt attention. Attorney N. A. M. A. Co. Correspondents in every city in North America. Notary Public. COUNTY ATTORNEY , TfSTON COUNTY , j\ Or- zeb , ATTORNEY & COUNSELOR AT LAW. J. EL W A M S L / E )Y . P tiy^ iö 'iöfa & S 'ü .í'ge& íi. C H O T E A U . MONT. J. H. DAY. ccT T iT T ir BTTjaviEnröiR. Irz-igaticn- &«.L&nd Surveying a Specialty. C h o t e a u , - - - M o n t a n a . C h o t e a u L o d g e N o 34 _A_. F & .A.. IDsÆ. W omon. There are women who nro comolj. There are women who are homely, But he careful how the latter thing you say; • - There are women who are healthy, There are women who are wealthy, There are women who will always have their way. There are women who art; truthful, Thero are women who are youthful. Was there ever any women that was old? There are women who are sainted. There are women who are painted, There are women who are worth their weight in gold. Thero are women who are tender. There ase women who are slender. There are women very lrrge and fat and rod; Thero are women who are married, Thero are women who have tarried, Thoro are women who are - talldows—but they’re dead. WORDS THAT RING TO-DAY. Patrick Henry’s A ppeal i’or Sig natures to the Declaration of Independence. D r .' Si’ H . D rake , W. M. j-oiExnsr o. Authorized to practice before the De partment of the Interior, the Land Office, and the Pension and’ other Bureaus. The following ‘ speech, which was hitherto unknown, induced th® siguing of the Declaration of Independence. It appeared in a Boston journal of 1778 that lias re cently come to light: It is the old hall oi’Philadelphia on July 4, 1776. There is a sil ence in this hall, every face is stamped with a deep and awful responsibility!. P E N S IO N C L A IM S S P E C IA L L Y A T T E N D E D T O . Cor. Main sad St. John Bts., Fort Boston. A ; G- W A R N E R , VOTARY PUBLIC, U. S. COMMISSIONER, A U T H O R IZ E D TO R E C E IV E F iljkgb & F inal P rooes on P ublic L ands . CHOTEAU, - - - - MONT. ZE3L I_i\ 3 TOIsr; 2sT o t a v X 3 T j F u l I o I í g BIRD*. MORTGAGES and all Xinds of legal fiutrumoata drawn up. • CH O T E A U , - - -, - M ONT. E . C. G A R R E T T . A- C . W A R N E R . GERRETT & WERNER, CONVEYANCERS, r e a l esta t e , INSURANCE CHOTEAU, MONT. s ; . s t c l a i e , B&rt>ef & ------ H ot and C old B aths . Main Street, Opposite Cholea« House Subscrit e for T he M ontani an . The committee of three, who have been out all night planning a parchment, are about to appear. That parchment with the signa tures of these men writ ten with a pen lying on yonder table, may either make the world free or stretch these necks upon tho gib bet. yonder in Potter's field, or nail these heads to the' doorpost oi these halls. That was the time of 1 solemn faces and deep silence. At last, hark! The door opens; the committee appear; who are these men who come walking up to John Hancock’s chair? The tall man, with sharp feat- speaks out his few bold words, and John Adams pours out his whole soul. , The soft-tone voice of Charles Carroll is beard undulating in syllables of deep music. But still thero is doubt, and that palefaced man, shrinking in one corner, squeaks out something about axes, scaffold, and a—gibbet: “Gibbet!” echoed a fierce, bold tone, that startled men from their s.eats—and look yonder! A tall, slender form arises, dressed, al though it is summer time, in a faded red cloak. Look liow his white hand trembles as it is stretches slowly out; that dark eye burns, while his words ring through the hall. “Gibbet! They inay stretch our necks on alP the gibbets in the* land; they may (urn every rock into a scaffold, ©very tree into a; gallows, every home into a grave,' and yet the words of' that parch ment can never die! “They may pour our blood on a thousand scaffolds, and yet from every drop that dyes the axe, or drops on the sawdust of the block, a new martyr to freedom will spring into birlhl ‘‘The British king may blot out the stars of God from His sky, but ures, the bold-brow and sand-hued hair, holding the parchment in his hands is'the Virginian farmer, Thomas Jefferson. That stout- built man, with a resolute1 look and sparkling eye—that is .a ton mail, one John A lams, ihe calm-faced man. with dropping in thick curls to Bos- Ahd hair his shoulders, that dressed in a plain coat and such odious homo-made blue stockings—that is the Phila delphia printer,- one Benjamin Franklin. The three advance to the table. The parchment is laid there. Shall it be signed or not? The/, ensues a high debate; then all (lie faint-hearted cringe in cor uers. While Thomas Jefferson Tfr^arcnmehteller ev1 Tfief,wbfk- of God may perish; His word, never!, ^ .>• “These words will go' forth to the worjd when our homes are in dust. To the slave in bondage, they will speak hope; to the me chatiic in his workshop, freedom; to the coward kings these word* will speak, but not in tones of flattery. They will speak like th® flaming syllables on Belshazzer’s wall. The days of our pride and g’ory are numbered! The days of judgment draw near. “Yes, that parchment will speak to kings in language sad. and ter rible as the trumpet of the arch-, angel. You have trampled on the rights of mankind lotfg enough. At last, the voice of human woe has pierced the ear of God, and calls His judgment, down. You have waded on, to thrones through seas of'blood; you have tramped on to power over the necks of mil lions; you have turned the poor man’s sweat and blood into robes your delicate forms, into night sky! Now; purpled hang men of the world, turn and beg for mercy! Where will you find it?' Not from,God, for you have blasphemed Hisflaws! Not from the people, for you were baptised in their blood! Here you turn, and lo! a gibbet! There, and a scaffold stares you in the face! All. around you—death—but nowhere pityl Now, executioners of the^ human -race kneel down, ves.* kneel down on the sawdust of the scaffold! Lay your perfumed heads on the block; bless the axe' as it falls—the axe sharpened for the poor man’s neck. “Such is the message of the declaration of man to the kings of the world. And shall we falter now? And shall we start back appalled when our feet touch the very threshold of fieedom? JJo you see quailing face?around you, when our wives have been butch- t ered; when the hearthstones of our land are red with blood of lit tle children? What! are there .shrinking hearts or faltering voices here, when the very dead of our battle fields arise and call upon us to sign that parchment, or be accursed? “Sign! If the next moment the gibbet’s rope is around your neck. Vàï brings with thè échoj òf the your hus- lor crowns for your anoinled brows. Now, kingd Now, purpled hang men of the world! For you comes the day of axes, and, gibbets, and scaffolds; for you the wrath of man; for you the lightnings of God. ’ “Look? H qw the light of your palaces on fire flashes Jn the mid falling axe. Sign! By all hopes in life and death, as bands, fathers—as men, sign your, names to the parchment, or be ac cused forever! “Sign; not only for yourselves, but for all ages; for the parchment will be the text book of freedom, the bible of the rights of man for ever. “Sign, for the declaration will go lorth to American hearts for ever and speak to those hearts like the voice of God. And its work will not be done until throughout this wide continent not a 8ingleinchof ground owns the sway of privilege or power. “Nay, do not start and whisper with surprise. It is a truth. Your own hearts witness it; God pro claims it. This continent is the property of a free people, and. their propertj' alone. God, I say, proclaims it. Look at this strange history of a baud of exiles and outcasts suddenly transformed into a people. Lock at this won derful exodus of the old world into the new, where thay came, weak in arms, but mighty in Godlike faith. Nay, look at the history of. your Bunker HiU, your Lexing ton, where a band of plain farmers mocked and trampled down the panoply of British arms, and then Continued on Page 4.
