mmmm
Orphans’ Friend.
Price, $1 a year.)
OXFORD, N. C., MARCH 30, 1883.
(VOL. VIII. NO. 44.
JOY COMETH IN THE
MORNING.
IIT MRS. >r. ELI/A CORNELL.
’Twas a souml of bitter weeping,
P'rom the children at their play,
That I heard, as I sat resting
: In th^ light of waning day ;
And they answered to my question,
That a shining coin, when tossed,
Had escaped from ’raby fingers,
■ And in darkness had been lost.
often that heart failed him,
Through the whole of the eve
ning he would sit and
‘Gaze up.-tn her as a star
Whose purity and distance make it fair.
Then I heard a gentle soothing,
And sweet, childish accents suy:
“You will find it ia the morning,
■When the night has gone away.”
And the baby-heart fonnd comfort,
Anxious fears were lulled to rest,
And his head erelong was resting
In sweet sleep on mother’s breast.
But the words have lingered with me,
Like a low and sweet refrain,
And the thought has seemed to
haunt met
“They may soothe another’s pain,”
For;there’8 comfort in the promise
That the childish lips expressed,
Au^ the baby’s faith might teach us
How to lull our hearts to rest.
Do you monrn a loved one taken
To the home beyond the skies?
Have you grieved until the tear-drops
Are^no strangers to your eyes?
Have^you sought for satisf ction
id the things of time and sense,
While the passing years have
brought you
Only sorrow or suspense?
Has the time of your exemption
I'fom the hand of pain been brief?
With your heart grown almost hope-
. less,
Have you vainly sought relief?
P'ind you net a ray of comfort
In this promise that I bring?
For it holds enough of gladness
To make e’en the saddest sing,
For we trust God’s gracious promise,
That when life’s short night has
There shall dawn a day of gladness
That forever more shall last.
Although your heart be mourning
Over shattered hopes to-day,
“In the morning” joy is promised,
Wlien the night has passed
away.”
—Exchange.
A8 TWILIGHT MELTS AWAY.
Bach flower the dews have lightly wet
And in the sky the stars are met.
And on the wave is deeper blue, -
And on the leaf a browner hue.
And in the heaven thatolear obscure,
So softly dark and darkly pure,
Whieh follows the decline of day.
As twilight melts beneath the moon
away.
THE EFFECT' OF PERSISTENCE.
Some twenty years ago—I
do not know how many ei*
actly, but it was some time
during the war—I heard a
story which a soldier was read"
ing in a newspaper to a little
group around him toj their
great enjoyment. I shall tell
it only in brief, though I re
member well the fiiling in was
^ good part of it, which will
be missing in my recital.
Mr. S. C. Peterkin was a
prosperous young man of bus
iness who got ahead in spite
of his constitutional modesty.
This was in his way more
in society than in trade; he
was afraid of women more
than men. For n long, long
time he had set his heart upon
a lovely young lady whose
sweetness was like her name,
wiijch was Violet. He had
often called upon her, and re
sotved again and again that
be' would make her an offer
of hifl heart and hand, but as
and come away without mak
ing any progress in his suit.
At last he became alarmed by
the fact that the dashing Cap
tain Latham, of one of the
Sctind steamers, was often at
the house when he called to
see his charmer, the charming
Violet. At last he could not
bear the suspense any longer,
and he ventured, with much
hesitancy and awkwardness,
but with do or-die determina
tion, to ask her if she would be
his. With remarkable cool
ness, she replied.
‘You should have spoken
long ago, Mr. Peterkin; I have
been engaged to Captain La
tham for some time past, and
we aie to be married very
shortly. I am sorry to disap
point you, but we will be as
good friends as ever, and you
mast come to see me just the
same. The captain will al
ways be glad to have your
company.’,
Peterkin went away sor
rowful. But a brighter day
soon dawned, for within three
months after they were mar
ried the captain fell off the
steamer in a fog on the Sound
and was drowned. Now Pe
terkin took heart. He would
have the widow.
The year of mourning wore
slowly away. He kept his
eye on the widow, but would
not insult the memory of the
dead by proposing until a de
cent interval had passed. The
year ended, and he laid his
heart again at the little feet
of Violet. She heard him
quietly, and quietly remarked,
*My dear Peterkins,! amsorry
to disappoint you again, but
for the last six months I have
been engaged to Dr. Jones
It was hard to make up my
mind between him aud his
friend the handsome Lawyer
Bright, bat Dr. Jones was so
good to me while t was sick
m the winter after my hus
band’s death that I promised
Irai I would be his at the end
of the year.’
So poor Peterkin retired once
more; the widow Latham be
came Mrs. Dr. Jones, and so
remained, while the discom-
fited Peterkimwished the doc
tor might take “enough of his
own pills to make an end of
him.
Time passed oU.^ Peterkin
was walking down Broadway
one day, while not very far
ahead of him he saw two men,
one of whom he knew to be
this hated Dr. Jones. A large
flat stone was being hoisted to
the coping of a new building;
the rope gave way; it fell and
instantly killed the two men.
Peterkin rose to the emergen
cy of the moment. For the
dead he could be of no avail.
His thoughts were on the wid
ow. He turned, he ran, he
flew, to her abode. Wlie
she entered the room where he
awaited her he began:
My dear Mrs. Jones, I
bring dreadful news. I was
walking on the street, when I
saw a stone fall from a house
upo ' your poor husband, and
he is dead; but you must let
me comfort ^you. I beg you
now to be mine, my Violet, ^at
last’
‘Dear Mr,i.Peterkin, I am so
sorry! but when Dr. Jones and
Mr. Bright were both begging
me to marry; I took the doc
tor, and promised Mr. Bright
if anything happened to Dr.
Jones, I would certainly be
his. So you see I am engag
ed. I am sorry, for I do think
a great deal of you, my dear
Peterkin.’
Peterkin was very calm and
self-contained. He said,‘And
will you promiso to be mine
when that lawyer is no more?’
‘Certainly I will, with all
my heart and soul.’
‘Then come to my arms,
my Violet, for the same stone
that killed the doctor was the
death of Bright, and you are
mine at last.’—Harper's Mag^
azine.
RE VARD OF FAITHFULNESS.
“To be perfect it is not neces
sary to do extraordinary things,
but to do ordinary things extra
ordinarily well/’ wrote an old
saint whose life was an actual
translation of his maxim. The
daily dvocations of even the
best endowed persons "are made
lip of repetition, demanding a
patient labor equivalent to the
drudgery of ordinary hand toil.
The daily round, the common
task, the ever-recurring, insignif
icant details that seem too trivial
to be called duties, are some
times a weariness to the flesh.
They have little attractiveness
save in their reflected beauty
from the dodlity and the intel
ligence of the person who per
formed them. But suppose they
were not done? Each spool sold
by the shop clerk, each cent
counted by the cashier, each
stitch in the garment, counts in
the business of the day, the life-
work, the suui total of human
industry. A patient, faithful
capacity for humble duties is one
of the great forces that main
tains the activities of the globe.
The Lord High Chancellor of
England, our own Secretary of
State, directs the work of many
subordinates because they under
stand the details of that work;
and they have attained their
high position largely by reason
of their ability to do common
things uncommonly well. The
morning hours of Victoria of
England are regularly devoted
to the business by a stateswoman;
a'Hd ^1 her time is systematically
appointed to the duties or the
repoi^e demanded of her position
as flrst lady.aad sovereign of the
i-ealm. By this day-in-and-day-
out attention to the aftairs per
taining to royalty, she has won
tne love and reverence of her
subjects, although many of these
aflairs are neither dazzling nor
public, but simply necessary to
the moving of the machinery of
the government.
Take, then, to heart the maxim
of the old bishop saint, humble
worker, in whatever unnoticed
place thy labor lies, as an invig-
oration for the opening year.
The reward of faithfulness over
a few things is a wider trust, an
enlarged responsibility. But he
that would rule must first serve.
All that is done as under the
Taskmaster’s eye is of sufficient
importance to be recorded. We
shall hear the report of the life
long labor when we are promo
ted to that grade where HiS ser
vants, serve Him, and reign for
ever and ever.—.lion’s Herald.
A SENATE PAGE’S JOKK.
[VVashmgton(Oor.)Philadelphia Record]
The pages of the Senate and
House are handsomer and bright
er than those of the Congression
al Record. They are, like all
bright boys, fond of a joke. Sen
ator Dawes brought ©n the floor
of the Senate the other day a
very dignified old gentleman of
portly demeanor, gray hair,
and a pleasant face. They sat
down together on one of the red
leather sofas near the wall.
After they had talked a while,
Dawes returned to his seat to
finish a letter, leaving his stately
.friend all alone on the sofa. One
of the brightest of the pages, a
smart little Alabama boy, hear
ing the distinguished looking old
gentleman’s name, got out a
sheet of office paper and wrote
out a neat note addressed to the
Massachusetts Senator’s friend,
in which be remarked that one
of the Senate rules required all
visitors to the floor to make
three profound bows to the pre
siding officer out of respect to
the body.
He signed a fictitious name,
sealed the note in an official en
velope marked “United States
Senate,” aud hurrying up to the
fine-looking old gentleman on
the red sofa, handed it to Mm as
though it had been sent by old
David Davis himself. Then he.
and the other pages who were in
the secret got ofl^* in a comer
and awaited results. The old
gentleman put his gold eye
glasses to his nose, and slowly
aud solemnly read the little note
through. He seemed puzzled,
and for a moment hesitated.
Then he solemnly and slowly
arose, and with great dignity
made three low bows toward the
dais where the Vice-President
sits.
Old Isaac Bassett, the Door-
keep ar of the Senate and grand
custodian of the sole surviving
Senatorial snuff-box, as well as
one of the fe w men in the United
States who knows how every va '
riety of princes, potentates, prin
cipalities and powers should be
treated, was simply horrified
when he learned the cause of the
page’s glee. His long, white hair
threatened to stand erect ^s he
hastened around to apologize to
the distinguished visitor. The
latter was mortified when he re
alized how completely he had
been taken in, but his good na
ture prompted him to beg Bas
sett not to be too hard on the
bright little page.
we could divine very correct
ly the real motive for sending
us out of the way with some
false excuse? Now in a case
of this kind, which comes
within the pale of parental
authority the will of the pa
rent alone ought to be suffi
cient to control the child.
But there should be no stifling
of truth and no relaxation of
duty. If, as often will happen
it is not expedient or proper
for children to know a partic
ular fact or incident, they
should be told so with frank
ness and kindness, but at the
same time with firmness.
We are apt to overlook
the intelligence of those little
people and address ourselves
to their stature. We forget
mind, which is invisible, in
the presence of matter, which;
is seen. The treatment o^
children must always, fqr
their sakes, differ much fromi
that of full-grown men and
women; our manner of adress'
ing them must also be differ
ent; but there does not seem
to be any reason why we
should not give them full
credit for the amountofintelli-
gence they do possess; and we
may every day see children
with more discrimination,
greater good sense, and better
regulated moral deportment
than many whose tall figqre
or riper age has invested them
with the* consequence of men
and women.—Arthur's Home,
to prevent fulling, the train be
ing under’way. There was no
centre aisle, as now, and pas
sengers entered and occupied
seats by stepping on the ‘foot
boards’ winch ranged the
length of the coach.—States'*
ville Am.
THE OLDEST RAILROADS IN
THE UNITED STATS.
DON’T DECEIVE CHILDREN-
Nothing can be a greater
mistake than to consider
young people as destitute df
understanding; their under
standing should rather be ap
pealed to and consulted. Do
we not all remember how,
when young we were imposed
upon; how our elders sought
sometimes to put us off; how
they gave us evasive answers
or explanation; how they told
us some plausible story as an
excuse or as a reason? And
do we not remember that even
in our youth and simplicity
we were quite capable of see
ing through their manceuvers?
Do we not all remember how
when anyone endeavored to
keep us in ignorance of some
proceeding of which we were
made accidentily cognizant,
A discussion is going on'
with the press, as to the first
railroad built in the United
States, the claim being ren
dered in favor of the railroad
running to Charleston from
Hamburg, S. C., which is
doubtless correct. And the
next oldest road was construc
ted from Graston, N. C., to
Petersburg, Va., and the next
road was from Blakely to
Portsmonth, afterwards ex
tended to Weldon. The first
of these latter roads was con
structed, say 1830, about
which date the writer passed
over it, en route to New York.
The only other piece of rail
road between North Carolina
and New York city was 36
miles between Burlington,
New Jersey,and Frenchtown.
South Carolina, North Caroli
na and Virginia have the hon -
or of having constructod the
first railroads in this country.
These roads and the pas -
senger coaches, as well as. all
else, were on the primitix^e
order. Long stringers sawed
at the mills were laid upon
cross-ties; like thosemow used,
and upon them was spiked
bar-irori of a certain width
and thickness, tlie ends being
cut diagonal and fitted in line
with the track. The spikes
often getting loose, the rails
were liable to curl upward for
ming what was called ‘snake -
heads,’ causing many serious
accidents by piercing car
bottoms and injuring passen
gers.
Conductors collected from
the outside of the coach, and
did not go inside, as now, but
sidled along on a foot-board
holding to the stanchions that
supported the roof of the coach
and, when making change,
running an arm aroudd one
A new steamship now at
tlie New York docks for com
pletion is as great an advance
beyond the ordinary ocean
steamer as the screw propel
ler was beyond the side wheel
craft. The novel feature.s of
the steamer are her wedge-
shaped model below tbf3 wa
ter-line and her domelike ar-
clies above, covering every
part of the vessel at all likely to
bereachedby vvindorsea. She
will be^b^oliitely safe against
the dash ot the waves, no
matter how fiercely they may
rage, and the seas will glide ,
from her like the tradition^
‘water from a duck’s back.’
The new steamer’s trial trip
next week will bj an imper-
tant event to ocean travellers
as well as to marine arcliitects
and ship builders. —News and
Observer,
Latest Electrical Discov-
KEY.—The Rov. Mr Grilbert
during an adress at Christ
Church the other night, re-
fnavks the Otago Times,while
speaking of the telephone,
asked his audience if they
would be astonished if he
were to tell’them that it was
now proved to be possible to
convey by means of elQctiic-
ty, vibrations of liglit—to not
OMly speakwith your distant
friend--.but actually to see
him. The electroscope—the
name nf the' instrument which
enabled''uft iq do this—was
the very latest' scientific dis
covery, and to Dr. Gruidrah
of Victoria,' belonged the
proud distinction. The trial
of this wonderful instrument
took place at Melbourne on
the 31st of October last iu the
presence of some forty scien
tific atid public men, and - was
a great success. Sitting iu a
dark room, they saw projec
ted on a large dish of white
burnished metal the race
course at Flemington, with its
myriad hosts of active beings.
Each minute detail stood oat
with perfect fidelity to the
original, and as they looked
at the wonderful picture
through binocular glasses, it
was difficult to imagine that
they wore not actually on the
course itself and moving
among those whose actions
they could so completely
scan.
There is as nuch danger of
falling-on the smooth places
on the rough. And yet
how malty Christians are nev
er coutorit except when world
ly prosperity is enjoyed by
them. They worry and fret
when all things do not go fa
vorably, and are prone to re
bel when losses and afflictions
come. Do they over think
that it may be absolutely nec
essary for their salvation that
they should walk a rough
road? On the smooth road
they trust their own strength
and let go tlie hand of Christ;
in the rough road they cling
to him and are safe.—Selected.
We should persevere in the way
of duty, though it ^osts all that ia
dear to us.
■J