fsm.
TRE ORPILVNS’ FRIEND.
Wcduesdsiy, August 1>, l§TO.
TOO KIXO.
'We are sorry to know that
some bad boys are disposed to
take advantage of the sympathy
v/liicli the people feel for orphans,
and make collections for their
own benefit and amusement.
Sometimes the people suspect
fraud, but their extreme kindness
makes them submit to imposition
rather than examine and expose
an impostor. We recently met
one (Zeb Goode) making a col
lection in Salisbury, and exposed
liim on the sjiot. He afterwards
appeared in Greensboro and Sa
lem. Two others, at last accounts,
were on a tramp in Granville.
1 dense give them the road. When
traveling children claim to be
from the Orphan Asylum, ask
them to show a written discharge,
or prove all they assert.
GO XO WORK.
The idea of “ respectable em
ployment” is the work upon
which thousands split, and ship
wreck themselves and all who de
pend on them. All employments
are respectable that bring honest
gains. The laborer who is will
ing to turn his hands to anything
is as respectable as the clerk or
dapper store-tender. Indeed, the
man who is ready to work when
ever work offers, whatever it may
be, rather than lie idle and beg,
is a far more respectable man
than one who turns up his nose
at hard work, W'orries his friends
with his complaints because he
can get nothing respectable to do,
pockets their benefactions with
out thankfulness, and goes on
irom day to day a useless, lazy
grumbler.
BEGIN AT HOME.
Ti^ present age seems to be
one of ambition. Everybody
wants to excel their neighbors or
those with whom they mingle in
some pursuit; some in one thing,
some in another. It is well that
such a state of feeling exists, vve
commend it, but we fear there is
not discretion enough on the part
of young persons W'ho are just
starting on their caieer, just
launchiug out into business, in
regard to their callings, or natural
qualifications, and many under
take to cany, or appear to the
w'orld to carry,mantles which they
do not possess, and try to bear
aloof the standard of some pur
suit or calling in life for which
they possess no qualifications
whatever; consequently, tliey
soon fail in business, life becomes
a burden, all their interest and
hope in a successful career lost,
and thus they pass their days
here, and finally go out of the'
world without accomplishing that,
.vhich the All Wise intended
shoidd be accomplished by thorn,
and through their influence to
others, by britrging about a refor
mation and glorifying Him, but
instead. His name is disgraced.
Now we believe that one great
cause for so many failures in this
speciality is, that the attractions
of home are so much neglected in
man}' instances, that young men
and boys become wearied with
their situatioirs before it is fully
determined wdiat their special tal
ent consists in, whether they can
best honor themselves, their coun
try and their God by holding the
plow, sounding the anvil, lifting
tiro Irammcr, wielding the pen
selling goods, or pleading at the
bar. Let all the attractions of a
successful life be presented as
early as practicable, ascertain for
wdrat special duty your children
are enlisted, and allow tirenr to
prepare for that, and let it be done
at home, or as far as is possible,
let the preparation for life work
be made under parental influence.
Don’t understand us to say that
children should not be sent from
home to school, by no means do
we undervalue College Educa
tion, we would be glad to know
that every child in the State could
have the advantages of our best
Colleges and University; but
we think, as a general rule, it
should be ascertained what the
future work of the child is to be
before he enters College, and that
his home training should be such
that will not only develop his in
tellect, but instil within him a
love for some particular work to
which he may be called, and in
spire him with a desire to im
prove that talent that he may be
able to excel in that particular
thing.
By the way we would not for
get the girls and young ladies.
There are many young ladies in
North Carolina to-day who would
be grateful for knowledge to en
able them to engage in something
that will bring them a support;
but, alas! when it comes to the
test they find they are not fitted
for anything, they may have' an
idea of a number of different
kinds of work, but thorough in
nothing. The fault is not theirs.
They have, perhaps, used all
their opportunities to fit them for
usefulness in societ}', but the
trouble lies at home. "While we
believe that most parents would
even deny themselves to give an
affectionate and lovely daughter
a comfort, and would strive hard
to make life pleasant for her in
every respect, but at the same
time (though ignorant of their
mistake) are inflicting an injury,
of no small moment, by not teach
ing her to help herself, by not
giving her an opportunity to as
certain what she can do with the
greatest ease, and bring about the
most good, thus enabling her to
qualify herself for an honorable
position in society, and rise to
eminence, honoring her parents,
her calling and her God. We
ask how long will the present
state of affairs exist ? How long
will parents pei'init their sons and
daugliters to thus grow up, live
and die without developing the
talent tliat God bestows upon them
in order to advance Ilis own
work ?
[Talven from the Earlhamitc.]
TIVEATY DAYS AT SJEA.
THE ORPHANS OF OXFORD
AND ASHETIELE.
Kemember tlie orphans at Ox
ford when you offer your prayers
to-day. More than a hundred
poor children, who were growing
up into ignorant and vicious man
hood and womanhood, are now in
charge of faitliful and efficient
teachers who are guiding their
once erring feet in the paths of
wisdom and virtue. This work
is entirely dependent on the vol
untary contributionsof the people.
In these times of political excite
ment and financial distress many
have forgotten the orphans.
About twenty children have been
discharged and two forms are heard
by advanced orphans. The most
rigid economy has been enforced
and expenses have been reduced
about twenty-five per cent., but
there is a point beyond which
economy cannot go. Food and
clothing are indispensable, and
Solomon says: “money answer-
cth all things.” He was certain
ly a man of sound judgement and
excellent sense.-—llalei(jh Sentinel.
It was on the llthof May. I
had been on the Hawaiian Island
near six months. A friend once
wished me, “May your shadow
never grow less,” but tor the last
two months it had been growing
daily less and less until now, at
noon-day, in latitude 21 north, it
is almost all under my feet, and,
were I to stay a month longer,
what little was left would point
southward. I had purposed leav
ing several days earlier on the
steamer “City of Melbourne,” of
the line of vessels which ply be
tween San Francisco and Austra
lia, but, when said steamer came
into port, all her rooms were al
ready full, and the Honolulans
who w'ere bound for the United
States coast had to take tlie floor
or sofas^of the cabin, or else buy
out the officers’ rooms at from
forty to sixty dollars each. As
there were “monied” men among
the company, and several of them
with their families, they bought
out the captain, mate, purser and
first engineer. As I was barely
ready, and did not wish to be
crowded, and well knew that the
vessels were not very well kept,
and that any vessel that had been
already at sea three tveeks in a
tropical clime, would be sure to
have odious company about the
state-rooms and bunks, I conclud
ed to wait ten days for a sailing
vessel—^the bark “D. C. Murry,”
—under command of Captain
Fuller. ,The 11th very soon came
around, and all had orders to be
on board at 12 m. The usual
diversified crowd was there to
take leave of us. About 2 p. m.
vve pushed off under partial sail,
gliding out on the bay before the
trade wind, which, on this side of
the island, is from landward.
Friends are still -umving to us,
but already we are passing the
bar at the mouth of the charinel
—a smooth gap ■with long lines
of white breakers stretching away
on either hand—and friends are
no longer distinguishable.
This is the last view of a peo
ple and a clime I had longed from
childhood to see. Farewell,
friends! Good bye, Honolulu,
“Punch Bowl” Hill, Tantalus,
and all ye hills and blue distant
mountains I Good bye, ye silent
reefs—the growth of ages—with
your countless millions of crea
tures of the slime, whose labors I
came so far to see, Go on with
your work ; ye build better than
ye know ; ye serve quietly and
patiently without knowing the
result.
Here we go over a foam-fleck
ed, indigo sea charging away from
the long lines of waves that race
and leap and break along the
warping crest, and plunge and
widen out into froth and foam.
And these beautiful veils of broad
streaming mist, that spread in
long arches of snow-white over
the wake ofthemarchingbreakers,
can only be described to one who
has witnessed them. The “state
ly palms” are fading from sight
and the distant hills, with dark
gulfs between, are growing low,
and the night is coming. 'We go
in to rock and doze and dream
till morning, when we are sur
prised to find ourselves no further
from the land. They made a
tack in the night and are now
“beating” through Molokai Chan
nel, and running within six points
of the wind in a northernly
course, bearing a- little to the
west. We cannot head for home
for then would the strong trades
be full in our face. We must
sail as “close to the wind” as we
can till wo pass the belt of trades.
We have pleasant company.
Our vessel is clean, our captain
is temperate, cautious, wise, and
obliging. jThe passengers number
about twenty, and all have plenty
of leisure. Some are homeward
bound, others are going on busi
ness, and others for pleasure.
But we were not a happy set for
the first few days. Nobody was,
or seemed to be, impressed with
the grandeur of the sea. I heard
no such quotations as “Majestic
ocean 1 Glorious sea !”
During much of the time the
sky was overcast, and squalls of
wind and rain would drivm us
in-doors, save such of us as were
kept there from another cause.
All looked chill and drear within
and around. But few of the
passengers made their appearance.
Within it was silent, without it
was one far-reaching expanse of
watery waste. We had a Doctor
on board—an officer of the navy.
He was wise on the matter of
antidotes for sea-sickness. On
the first evening he was giving
some ladies specific instructions
as to how to avoid if, but now
he is hid away somewhere, not
able to take his morning walk
or be at meals. Eighty rounds
on the deck make a mile, and it
requires courage and hearty per- j
severance to make it.
It is the fourth- day out and
still many of our company are
confined to their rooms. We are
still driving northward and bear
ing west from 18 to 25 ; still go
ing av/ay from home. The captain’s
order to the helmsman is, “Keep
her full and by,” which means
sail as close to the wind as you
can, at the same time keeping the
sails full. Should the helm be
thrown too far the vessel would
head so near the wind that the
breeze W'ould strike on the other
side of the sails. Since the com
pass has thirty-two points, to sail
w'ithin six points of the wind is
to run with the wind two points
nearer over our bows tlian a right
angle, which is “close sailing.”
We have a pretty heavy cross
“head sea” striking us continual
ly about half way between front
and sidewise, causing our vessel
to labor heavily, the heavier seas
striking with a force that vibrates
through every timber of the ves
sel as though some giant had
struck us a broad-side, not -svith
a bush, but with a cedar of Leba
non. It is the fifth day and still
the swift wings ofourgallantbark,
glances us northw'ard. We are
in latitude 33. Isn’t it time to
turn homeward? It’s getting
gloomy and discouraging. Here’s
the kind of song more befitting
the feelings of many of us as we
mope about, wrapped in shawls
and cloaks to guard against the
chillness of the North Pacific:
“Oh, this dreary, monotonous
waste! Oh, the rolling, weari
some, merciless sea? Oh, the
nasty, clammy, slimy brine! ’
But the worst was yet to come.
As we clove the brine and pierced
farther the vacancy of the North
Pacific, we ran all of a sudden
beyond the “trades” when,
‘Down dropped the breeze, the sails dropped
down/
It was not, however, a dead calm
for -we made sixty-four miles dur
ing the twenty-four hours and
seventy;six the next twenty-four.
But we had more sun and less of
that penetrating dampness so
characteristic of the trades, and
what motion we had was with our
prow homeward, and we could
.pace the deck without staggor-
ing.
The great sea-birds,—“gonies,’
as the sailors call them—a kind
of albatross, that had been keep
ing us company all the way, fly
ing around and over us, then
alighting behind us, now in the
trough of the sea and then balanc
ing on a crest, have come imme
diately behind us and are able to
swim as fast as vve sail. There
were scores of them catching at
all the scraps and garbage thrown
overboard. We slaughtered a
sheep once every two or three
days, chickens or ducks or tur
keys every day,'now and then a
pig, and once a Hawaiian ox, so
the “gonies” frequently had some
thing at which to pick. AVe had
a passenger who was quite skil
ful in catching them. A strong
fish-hook, baited with fat meat,
floating along the surface, would
be pecked at directly by half a,
dozen, till it would stick in the
hooked upper beak of some un
fortunate, which would be swuno-
on deck. It was surprising to see
how helpless these birds were.
Except in the breeding season they
have no rest for the soles of their
feet save the restless sea. There
they eat and play and sleep.
They can scarcely stand on deck.
Their walk is but a stagger and
as to rising to fly they are utterly
helpless. They soon grew sick,
readily showing us the contents
of their stomachs on the clean
washed deck. The sailors say
they are “sea-sick.” As we lifted
them over the railing they woidd
tumble into the water, then rise
and fly.
Aftera few alternate days of fair
breeze and almost calm, wo fell
in with a brisk “nortli-wester,”
which sent us directly homeward.
What a stately thing is a vessel
in full sail! At one time the
wind blew a gale and so chilly
that we felt it to the bone; but
how we flew ! For a time the
ship carried every sail, and though
the sea was high, and many a
wave came spouting over the
deck, yet she rushed madly on,
rocking and quivering and stag
ering, reeling and promptlv right
ing herself again ; now down in
a blue foam-spattered valley, now
high on a billow where we could
command a horizon that encir
cled a wide wildernes of whirling
tempest torn waves. Our ship
seemed to behave like some liv
ing monster angrily bent on mak
ing up lost time. She rushed in
to the brine, tossing it either way
and sending ragged sheets of
curling foam to right and left.
The last day was the windiest of
all, but entirely cloudless. 'We
had to take in part of our sail..
The sky was more of a dark gray
than blue. The general tossing
of the vessel gave some a touch
of sea-sickness, but all were
cherry, as we were driving to the
haven and nearly there. Now is
the time to sing :—
‘‘No mortal know® wliat soaa I sail.
With faith and hope in every gale,
With heart and trust that never fail,.
Till on thy shores iny sails are furled,
0 land‘ sweet land, new ■vrorld,- my world!
0 ye that love, ye understand—
0 world, bright world, new land my land.”
At 8 p. m., on the eve of that
20th day, we sighted Point Eace
Light. Late in the night, I heard
the long surging wail of breakers
on the bar, and knew that the
shore was nigh. At sunrise, we
wore gliding through the Golden
Gate, in quiet waters once more.
There was a forest of masts, a
cloud of smoke, a din of machin
ery, a hurrying crowd, and
through it all for the first time in
seven months, locomotive whistle,
and felt I was nearly where I
■would be.