VOLUME I.
OXFORD, N. C., WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 29, 1875.
NUMBER 52.
Written for tho Orphans’ Frioud.
BEK I3AB>AE>’S BABZES.
CHAPTER I.—NAME AND PEDIGREE.
His first name was John Ben-
hadacl Smith. Under tlie dispen
sation of slavery, his father own
ed ono hundred and eighty-nine
negroes, and worked sixtv'-threo
on each of his valuable farms.
Tho father’s name was Austin
Smith. Now Austin is a contrac
tion of Augustine, and Augustine
looks back to Augustus Cmsar,
and the Ciesars look back through
little lulus, to tempest-tossed
iEiieas, tlie son of Andrises and
Venus. Mr. Austin Smith had
read that Julius Csesar rvas accus
tomed to scratch his head with a
single finger to prevent tho dis
placement of his oily hair, and lie
delighted to follow the example
of his once illustrious ancestor.
In fact, he never decided any im
portant question without suppos
ing that he was riding across the
Rubicon. He was very exact
and very exacting. He punctil
iously observed all the rules of
courtesy and gentility, and look
ed with ineffable disgust on those
who failed to treat him equal
deference. His neighbors thought
of ; pride and aristocratic affecta
tion, while Mr. Smith was think
ing of royal descent and noble
blood. On one occasion, when a
horse was to be sold at auction,
and Mr. Smith desired to be in
formed of his blood, the super
cilious auctioneer announced that
the horse belonged to the red
bloPd stock. This i-emark called
forth an immense roar of laughter
at Mr. Smith’s expense.
On another occasion a pool-
neighbor had business with Mr.
Smith and was detained till dark.-
He was preparing to take ins de
parture, but Mr. Smith’s rigid ob
servance of tho laivs of hospitali
ty would not allow him to do so.
He sent the horse to the stable
and conducted his neighbor into
the parlor. The plain man liad
never before witnessed such a dis
play of magnificent mats adoi-ned
w ith pictures of birds and lions
and tigers. Ho took special pains
to pimp o.ver them all, lest he
might soil them with his shoos,
and Ml-. Smith was too polite to
appear to notiooTis very amusing
luiiics. At tea tho visitor attack
ed ihe anple-fioat w'itli knife and
fork, tiumgli Mr. Smith toolc spec
ial care to have him supplied with
a spoon. On leaving the table, lie
, Btiilted the napkin into bis pocket.
Mr. Smith accompanied bis guest
to bed, and after burying him
in feathers and loading- him with
blankets, titcked him in so snugly
that he could not possibly kick.
When the poor man reached iis
home, his wdfe discovered and re
turned the napkin, and very often
afterwards called upon her hus
band to relate to their friends tlie
story of his adventures at Mr.
Smith's. Mrs. Smith’s maiden
name was Mabel Poivel. She
was born wdth a silver spoon in
her mouth, and then her relatives
left her several legacies. Most
men blame their poor relations
for being bad managers (even
ivhen they never had any thug
to manage,) and so leave tiieir
property to their richest kin. As
Mabel I’owel she 'vas sometimes
perplexed to decide what she
would do. ivith her ivealth : but
as Mrs.- Smith that question ivas
easily answered.
Mrs. Smith shared her hus
band’s aristocratic feelings. She
-ivas very kind to her poor neigh
bors and especially to the sick;
but she very often incidentally
reminded them of her high social
position and tho consequent re
spect which she had a right to
command. Their only child avas
John Ben-hadad Smith. lie was
the pride of his father, tho joy of
his mother, and the pet of all the
servants ; but ho was a lover of
pleasure, of fun, and frolic.
Hunting, fishing, and driving
were his constant delight. His
school life w-as simply endured ;
but not enjoyed. In tho acade
my and in college, he unlocked
hard problems with ‘keys,’ and
rode over difficult places on ‘po
nies.’ At examinations he usual
ly ‘guessed’ what questions would
be propounded to him, and car
ried the answers ill his pocket, in
stead of his head. In 18G0 he
graduated without distinction, be
ing what is known, at Oxford,
was one of the few young men
who did not expect to be Presi
dent of the United States, nor
even Governor of North Carolina.
He had not even wondered if his
native land could ever furnish
scope for his marvelous powers.
He literally IIuuct away ambition,
and -n'as perfectly contented as
John B. Smith.
can not ansiver yonr ai-giiments;
but my lieart refuses to boat ex
cept for Dora, and hers boats on
ly for me,”
“Then,^ sternly replied the
father, “1-renounce you as my
son. I coVunand you not bcar
my name ; for you can not in
herit my foituue.”
The youiij- man evidently felt
oppressed br his father’s ivords
and knew they would not bo re
called. For lome moments he
was silent andsad. At length he
answered : ‘M\ name is no longer
Smitli; but Beiilladad and noth
ing more.’ In cue hour Mr. Ha-
dad and Miss bill were sitting
near together uiiier the shade of
a fruit-tree in the honest black
smith’s garden.
(continued nb^t week.)
But all througli his boy-hood,
young Smith had loved Dora
Dill, tlie blacksmith’s daughtoi'.
Now Mr Dill rented' a shop of
Mr. Smith and did the work of
the farms; but his charges wore
moderate and his family was
largo and expensive, and alas, ho
was guilty of the crime of pover
ty. Mrs. Smith liad often invited
Dora to her house, when busy
witli sewing, or preparing foi-
parties, and had rewarded her lib
erally for her services. On suen
occasions Mrs. Smith was glad to
see her son linger at home and
show fondness for tho company
of his mother. Y^et it did not oc
cur to mother or fatiier that a
Smith and a Dill could ever be
united in marriage. But wlien
the young man returned Irom
college and, on several successive
Sundaj's, escorted Dora to church,
the Smith mansion was full of
alarm, lest something rash should
be done. Mrs. Smith conversed
with her son and reminded him
of his rich and royal birth, and of
th'e folly of dropping down with
common people. When he in
formed her that his attentions to
Dora were honorable and serious,
her amazement knew no bounds
and slio called her husband. Mr.
Austin Smitli never lost bis dig-
lle deliberately explained
' I)e,4B Childken )—At one of
the depots on the Sttiboard Road
two women daily offa- to tho pas
sengers in the oars , home-knit
socks to buy food for a sick
mother. They frequently receive
the worth of tho socks ;\nd have
them returned to be resold. Now
we are constantly hoping to hear
the shrill whistle that awiounces
the arrival of Oxford and Hen
derson cars, and I want to know
how nianyi little girls in tho Or
phan Asylum can Icnit socks they
would bo willing to have sold in
those cars f You ought to be
very energetic in practising, for
fear your work ^vill not be ready
to oti'er as soon as the cars are
built for tho Oxford road, and'an}^
financier will admit that the busi
ness would be exceedingly profit
able if the same socks sold every
day were offered for sale with the
same profit on the next. It push
ing times should come upon us
two little girls (or grown up wo
men as they may bo when tlie
first whistle sounds for Oxford
cars) might catch many honest
pennies from tho use of knitting
needles. Knitting’ machines are
much used, but it require.s as
much knowledge to use tliom
skillfully as it does to lieel and
toe a sock. Knitting is a very
easy and pleasant work, and 1
have no doubt tliat if girls learnt
to knit wlion they wore young
they would tind it very amusing
as well as useful, ami many an
idle hour would be profitably
spent, 1 have seen women knit
ting when going to tho well for
water with pails on their beads,
and recollect the teachoi’ that
taught me to spell b-a-k-e-r al
ways bad knitting in her hand,
and almost playing a time with
tho rapid strike of tho needles.
to his son the dutv’- of seeking a
companion among his equals in
education, position, and wealth,
and solemnly warned him not to
degrade or disgrace the honored
and illustrious name of Smith by
a matrimonial alliance with a
Dill, a name utterly unknown in
the annals of wealth and blood.
The young man heard him
with cafmuess and patience and
tlien deliberately answered : “All
that }'ou say is probably true. 1
turn off dailja
During tlie war I bad wooden
needles made to knit shirts for
the soldiers, and they aro 3'et do
ing good service. Thou an ac
complishment next to knitting
was nuicli in use. That is, straw
plaiting. Girls and boys can
both learn to plait straw for bats
and bonnets. Ifiko learning to
play upon an instrument it is bet
ter to accustom the fingers to it
before they got stiff and greater
])roficiency will bo acquired. In
England two or three tine kind of
line grasses aro used to plait the
famous English straw bonnets
that command high prices m
America. In Italy stalks oi wheat
are selected, white and smooth,
some sjilit and some whole, and
made round and flat, of which the
fine leghorn bonnets are made.
Y'ou can easily gather straws to
learn the different jilaits, and then
we can buy bonnets and hats
from tho orphans.
In the third year of tho war I
paid a lady in Oxford S50 for a
straw bonnet that -would now
Vriiig 81. She made it of wheat
slraw, and it jiaid for two busli-
elj of meal. That amount ol
mail would make many a lioe-
eaks to drive starvation from tho
door, if, in such tiroes, woman’s
handiwork was again brought in
to requisition. Idle hands, chil
dren, ire always in mischief. Be
like tie busy boe that gatbora
honey bom every flower and
improve iho time allotted you in
the Asylam by imitating the
prominem talent of the siveot
young lades placed over you,
training ytur pliant minds and
leaving solil impressions upon
them for fut'u'O usefulness, Imi
tate every k.iowii virtue, shun
idleness, and ^ou "wiil escape the
snares of tho Vicious, ivho are
placing traps daly in your path
that leadetli to destruction.
,, S. A. E.
A UiSirAjiAiiirTK IttKETiai'G.
It was a rare ex\)eriinent, and
one which not erory minister
would feel willing to make,—
protecting a disturfor in church
in tho hope that ho might bo ben
efited by remaining. Y'et the
happy result, as recorded in the
following brief story, is perliaps
not a solitary instance of the wis
dom of forbearance, even in ex
tremes.
A drunkard entered an elegant
city cliurcli one Sunday after
noon, while the choir was singing
tho first hymn. How he happen
ed to pass tho sexton and ushers,
ragged and reeling as lie ivas,
aud make his way, unchallenged,
to a seat near the pulpit, seems a
lie goes, perhaps some word will
waken both Ids ear and his heart.’
So nothing uas done to the
rough sleeper beyond touebing
liiin, to check his nois}^ breath
ing. Ho continued to slumber
till the sermon was done. The
music of the organ and the sing
ers, and the rising np of the con-
gi’ iga i m, awoke him, and started
him to his feet. The choir sang
‘■li'Kik ofagos, dfoi'tfor nid,
mo hide mjsolf in Iheo.”
The wretched man caught tlie
words, and stared wildly about
him. Then he sank back into his
seat, aud covered his face. That
hymn was tiie one whicli his
mother, had sung on her death
bed.
From that day, Sabbath after
Salibatb, the same stranger (still
pooi'ly clad, but no longer drun
ken) appeared in the same cliurch,
and sat a sei’io.us and quiet bearer.
Tiie minister sought liiui out,
and gathered round him other
friends, and when he told Ins
story, none cold doubt that his
lieart was changed. 1 lo had been
going rapidly the downward road
sincG his mother’s death, till the
niomcnt w hen, led by an unseen
Hand, ho had wandered, half in
toxicated, into the house of God.
That rescued drunkard became
a devoted servant of Christ, and
an officer in the very clmr/'t-
"whose pastor’s considerate pa-
tiunoo was bis unexpected means
of grace.
Tho Saviour often interfered
for needy and offensive ones
whom His less far-seeing disciples
would have driven away. Doubt
less a minister cannot always, in
similar cases, do as that pastor
did,—certainly not when a dis
turbance is boisterous and intol
erable. But here God’s hand was
in it.’
To have turned that poor drun
kard out of the sanctuary would
liavo torn him from the presenco
of salvation.—Ymths Companion.
Poor old lady has been gone ma- .
ny 3’ears, but the mischievous wonder; but he certainly did so.
girls that tangled her juirn when
knitting son 'roinmie’s socks have
not forgotten lioiv thej’ had to
dodge the long beech whip and
promise not to do so any more.
Now, girls, you do not know
how proud you -would leel if \'ou
always wore stockings of your
own knitting, and a nice little
boy bad a pair of socks prosoiited
b\' j’ou for a Cliristroas gift. I
confess to v'ou to-da}’ I can not
shape a pretty stocking, because
wbeu I was j'oung aud wild 1
would not sit still by poor old
Mrs. Beasley and be taught, but
let the spirit move mo and a
s'a-aight up and down sock 1 can
And there he soon fell asleep.
Strangely out of place as he
looked in that fashionable assem
blage, no one liked to take the
trouble of removing Inm, so long
as he ivas quiet. But present!)'
his heavy breathing began to at
tract notice. By the time the min
ister was half through his sonnoit,
it had increased to a loud snore.
One of the deacons rose and
came forward to lead the man
out of the house ; but tlio clerg)--
iimu said,
‘Imt us bear with him. Some
thing has led the poor man hero,
not in his right miiiil, and I think
the Lord’s hand is in it. Before
When Aristotle, who ivas a
Grecian philosopher, and the tu
tor of Alexander tliij Great, was
once asked what a nmn could
gain bt' uttering falaeh.oods, he
replied, “Not to bo credited when
ho shall tell the truth.” On tlie
contrary, it is related that when
Petrarch, au Italian poet, a man
of strict integrit)', was summon
ed as a W'ituess, aud offered in
the usual manner to take an oatli
before a court of justice, tlie judge
closed tho book saying, “As for
you, I’etrarch, your woku is suf-
licient.” From tlio story of Pe
trarch w'O may learn )iow great
respect is paid to those ■'vlioso
character for truth is establislied;
and from the reply of Aristotle,
tho folly as -well a-s wickedness
of lying. In tho eouiitry of Siam,
a kingdom of ,Vsia, he -ivlio tells
a lie is puiiished, according tolaw,
b)' liaving his mouth sewed up.
Faith and
FArl'lI AND WoUKS.-
ivorks wore illustrated by a von-
uiiesoiiio little six-)’ear old boy,
who ran into the forest after ateaiii
and rode home upon tho load of
wood. When asked by hi.' -.-ofi'.
er if lie was frigliieiied wiicii the
team came down a very steep
bill, ho said, ‘Yes, a little ; but I
asked tne Lord to help me, and
liuuij on like a heaver,
mamm
mm