Orphans’ Friend.
Price, $1 a year.)
OXFORD, N. C., OCTOBER 19,1883.
(VOL. IX. NO 22.
To the Business Public.
The ^iend visits about FOUR
HUNDRED Post-Offices in North
Carolina, thus giving avvsrtisers the
advantage of a general circulation.
OBGANIZAI^ION OF THE OR
PHAN ASrEVH.
J. H. HhJjS—Superintendent.
Hiss B. M. Ma.OK—Teacher of Third
Form, Boys.
Hiss Lula MABTIN—Teacher Third
Form, Oirls.
Miss M. F. Jordan—Second Form,
Boys.
Mrs. Jordan—^Plrst Form, Boys.
Mbs. Waleer—^Fir»t Form, Girls.
Miss V. V. Walton—Vocal Musicand
Drawing.
Mbs. Rives—Hospital.
Mbs. Hutchinson—Boys’ Sewing
Boom.
Mrs. Fowler—Girls’ Sewing Room.
§PECIAE DVTIE§.
Chapel—Cosby, Broadway and Mattie
I’iland.
Chapel liAMPs—E. Kelly.
Chapel Stove—Douglass and A
Keith.
Office—H. Brwin.
Library and Bell—L. Hudgins.
Halls—Boyd, M. Gabriel, Young.
T.J)» R.—Hood, Johnson, E. Wright.
C.-D. R.—Beddingfield, Bivins, HUl,
J, Hatch, Powers, Watson.
Cush—^Lee.
Boiler—TufFord, S. Barfield.
Water Shed—^Haywood, Woodhouse
PlOS—Grady, Holmes.
Milkers—Mason, L. Hatch.
Girls’ Sev^ing Room—Knox.
Boys’ Sewing Room—^M. Hutchinson.
boys.
Cook Room—Tate, Chambers.
T. D. R.—D. Batliffe.
C. D. Ri—Prichard, McLeod, P. White,
Lem Lynch, Haywood, E. Woody.
Bohar—W. Lynch, Haywood.
Lamp-Lighter—Gibson.
Cow Boys—G. Poteat, Grady, W. Mc
Guire.
Mule Boys—Parker, Austin, Wilson,
Jackson, Butler.
Hog Boys—Presson, C. Poteat.
Pig Boys—Cosby, Fowler.
Mail Boy—R. Poteat.
THB OLD CHURCH TOWER.
T. B. ALDRICH.
In the old church tower
* Hangs the bell;
And above It on the vane.
In the sunshine and the rain,
Cut in gdldvSt. Peter stands.
With the keys in his claspt hands,
And all is well.
In the old ohoich tower
Hangs the bell;
You can hear its great heart beat
Oh I 8oload,.'and Trild, and sweet,
As the parson says a prayer
Over wedded lovers 1 here
And all is well.
In the old church tower
Hangs the bell;
Deep and solemn, hark! again,
Ah, what passion and what paini
With her bands upon her brehst,
Some poor soul has gone to rest
WhereJaU is well.
In the old church tower
Haags the bell,
An old friend that seems to know
All our joys and all our woe ;
It is glad when we are wed,
It is sad when are dead,
And all is well.
New York Observer.
THE BEST REVENGE.
A STORY FOB BOYS;
BY^NNAI ROBINSON WATSON.
^Mamma, what can Paul be
doingl Almost every after
noon for a long time now be
has gone into his workshop,
locked the door, and refused
to leir us in/
‘I think maybe he’s com
menced some work for Santa
Claus; you know papa said
yesterday the world was gO"
ing down 4:he hill, and on its
way to Christmas,’ answered
Nettie, the little five-year-old
sister.
‘No, it is too early for that,’
continued Bell, wisely, ‘what
can he be doing, niammaf
‘Indeed I cannot tell, but if
he prefers you should not
know, it it quite rude to be
curious and to trouble him
with questions.’
Just at this moment Paul
entered, flushed and warm
looking, though the day was
cool and bracing and a bright
fire burned in the grate. Bell
turned towards him with an
inquiry in her largo brown
eyes, but lier mother’s words
silenced the inquisitive sen
tence rising to her lips. In a
few moments papa joined them
and the little sifters were di
verted from the subject of
curiosity.
The next day, and for a
number following, Mrs. Mans
field observed that Paul went
immediately to his -workshop
after returning from school in
the afternoon, and remained
there alone for half an hour,
entering the house later with
the same flushed, eager face
as upon the evening when the
matter was first mentioned.
What could it le, the mother
queried, nothing wrong sure^
ly, but her boy was not wont
to withold aught from her ev
er ready sympathy and there
was an unacknowledged sense
of disappointment day after
day as he continued the hab'
it, yet never alluding to the
subject.
One Friday jifternoon he
entered the 'sitting-room,heat
ed B8 usual and quite excited,
and with a sudden impulsive
gesture, exclaimed: ‘Mother,
just feel my muscles! I am
ever so much stronger than I
used to be/ Siio clasped her
nlender fingers’about his arm
i.s he drew it b.(ck and forth.
‘Yes indeed, it is becoming
quite full and firm. I will be
so glad to see you more ro
bust.’
He had been somewhat deF
icate, was of light build and
had always been an object of
solicitude. She passed her
hand caressingly over his soft
chestnut cnrls. ‘How warm
you are, dear’—she had never
asked a question regarding his
occupation in the workshop.
She would not force the con
fidence of her children, but
now her eyes looked into his
with an unspoken inquiry.
‘Well, yes, mother, to tell
the truth, I’ve been at hard
work and I do believe I’ll tell
you all about it,’ With a sud-
deu burst of boyish confidence
he dropped upon a chair at
her side, took her hand and
began eagerly: ‘Now mother,
you musn’t stand in my way,
because its got to be done.
Cham Nevis says so’—be
paused a second.
‘What, Paul, what must be
done!’
‘Why, I must whip Ed.
Chamberlain,! just can’t stand
him any longer. Ever since
school opened he has been as
mean to me as any boy could
be to another; he hides my
hat, my books, he spills my
ink; indeed I can’t tell you
what he doesn’t do. I have
struck him several times, but
lie laughs in the most aggra
vating way and says ho will
not fight a boy under his size.
So two months ago Cham
Nevis loaned me a pair of
dumb, bells and helped me
liang a saud bag in the work
shop. Every day since then
I have practised faithfully,and
now,’—with a look of defiance
he sprang to his feet, doubled
one hand and struck it vio-
I lently against the other—‘now
I am ready for him.'’
‘What d" j^ou propose do-
I ing!’ aske ' his mother with a
peculiar 'stilV quality in her
voice that the children under
stood and unconsciously
dreaded.
‘Why, I intend to whip Ed.
Chamberlain, then I guess
he’ll find himself mistaketi
and let me alone. To-mors
row we are to go out nutting,
you know, and when he tries
some of his usual tricks I will
‘open fire,’ as the boys say.’
He looked into her eyes
somewhat anxiously. ‘Now,
now, mother, doesn’t he de
serve it!’
‘That is possible, Paul; I
suppose we all deserve severe
punishment sometimes, but
can you think of no other way
to exhibit your strength, ho
better, nabier, more manly
and Christian way!’
A look of great disappoint
ment crept into his face. ‘Oh,
mother, don’t talk that way,
I’vo been thinking about it so
long and just waiting for the
time to come. I want to let
the boys see what I can do
with him.’
‘Well, dear, let us think; it
may sound very unreasonable
in your present frame of mind,
biit is there no great service
you could perform for him, is
there no feat of strength
which you conld accomplish
and by which prove the abili
ty to punish him, but show
your unwillingness to do so.
Do you rememben the mes
sage sent to Zorubbabel, ‘not
by power, nor might, but
by my Spirit, saith the Lord
of hosts.’ By that Spirit you
can overcome the giant of
revenge and mortified pride
which has built a stronghold
in you heart.’
Paul sat with a bowed head
and dispirited face, his eyes
averted. ‘Oh, mother, you
cau’t know how a boy feels
about these things,’
‘Indeed, dear, I think I can,
and above all, God knows.’
They were interrupted, some
one entered and nothing mori?
was said upon the subject save
that it was remembered in the
mother’s prayers.
The next morning a merry
party of boys called for Paul,
and with a hasty kiss on her
cheek, a glance for one mo
ment into her earnest eyes, he
was gone. The day dragged
heavily, her fond mother's
heart followed him through
all the long hours, and many
times the petition, ‘Strength
en him, 0 Lord,’ found its
way to the ever listening ear.
At last, just as the twilight
gathered, she heard the merry
voice returning and hastened
to the door with a faint sensa
tion of anxiety that would not
be banished nor give way be
fore her abiding faith. The
party of boys was just paus
ing at the gate, and could she
believe her eyes—Ed. Chani'
berlain was standing very
close to Paul, both hands on
his shoulders, saying, ‘Old
fellow, we are friends for life,
you will never know how
ashamed lam of the past/
Then Paul came bounding
in, threw his arms about
her, and drew her to a seat.
•Oh, mother, how thnnkful I
we had that talk yesterday
evening. He was treating me
all the morning just as usual,
but I could not find it in my
heart, after what you said and
the way you looked, to carry
out my plan, so kept putting'
it off. Late this afternoon we *
were all on the shore of Fox
River, near the landing, when
the steamer came up; as she
moved off he exclaimed, ‘I
dare you to untie that skiff
and ride the waves in her
wake!’ ‘No,’ I answered,
‘mother would not he willing,
it is dangerous.’ He gave a
loud laugh, exclaiming, ‘Hear
that, boys! Mother wouldn’t
be willing!^ Only two of the
little boys were near, the oth
ers had just gone up the bank,
but he and I were standing
on the pier. He laughed
again and^stepped forward, as
if to push me in, his foot trip
ped, and over he went The
water is very deep there, and
the current made by the boat
drew him under. I'or a sec
ond I was stunned, but when
be rose farther out on the wa**
tor, I had jerked off coat, vest
and shoes, and plunged in.
Then—I can’t tell you just
how I did it—it was hard
’^ork, but I got him to the
shore; and just think, mother,
I never could have done it
but for this- -this—muscle. I
couldn’t have done it but for
our talk. I will surely tell
you everything from this day.’
‘Thank God, thank God,’ she
murmured, pressing a kiss up
on his forehead.
‘And now, mother, we will
be the best of friends; I can't
tell you all he said to me/
‘Oh, my darling, ‘not by
power nor by might, but by
the Spirit of God/ may you
vanquish all the foes that will
firise in this life.’
“LITTLE TRAITS TELL LARGE
TALES.”
I have been thinking for
some months of the keys to
character, associations, habits
thought and life, that we
all give by looks or gestures
and expression, careless words
dnd unconscious moments. I
saw the above quotation in
dne of Hazlitt’s essays, and it
ih exactly what I was looking
for a fit title.
The importance of little
things has been much discuss'-
ed, but I Wiiiit to take it up in
another manner, as an uncon
scious revelation of what
would otherwise be unknown.
What a witty friend re
marked of two showy people
we met at the seaside, ‘‘They
look elegant and grammatical
—at a distance!’ is true of
many others.
At one of the large and el
egant hotels of New York 1
noticed a seemingly charming
woman at a table nea r mine,
and said .-omething pleasant
of her to my friend.
‘Yes, she well'enough
but she asks for ‘cons’nmmy/
meaning the Frencli soup
which usually adorns the first
line of a dinner mcnvi. That
was a sufficient teat, as in the
case ol Coleridge's 1 lero, with
the noble brow an.d massive
head, who only opened his;
mouth to exclaim., as some
cakes were brought, in,‘Them’s
the jockey’s for meV
I was sitting in a station
the other day, w aitiftg wearlr
ly for a belated train. A lady,-
quietly dressed and with a
striking face, interested me
particularly. But a temporary
occupation she found deci
ded her social place. Rising,
she drew one of the long pins
from her bonnet, which runs
through the back hair, and
walking up and down picked
her pretty teeth!
When the car stops how
many show their real charac
ter, quite unintentionally.
Selfishness, gluttony, rude
pushing, loud laughter. The
greetings amnse one. Men of
a certain ra’-k in Hie careful
ly avoid looking at each other
when they shake hands. They
see everything but their
friend, and are sure to spit
after the salutation.
Many betray themselves at
the table
Some persons of a bucolic
ancestry go th -ough all the
farming operations on their
plates; raking^ hoeing, shov
elling, and pitching in food,as
the hay goes into the barn-
loft, or is piled on the cart.
Others put out their elbows
and go to work as for dear
life, giving the impression of
important business, whicli
cannot be attended to until
the stomach is filled.’
I have seen a woman stir
ring her coffee, morning after
morning, with as muc i vim
as a cook uses in mixing her
muffins.
I was talking of this with a
friend, who told me of an el
Ggantly-dressed woman whom
she met at a large party, who
was resplendent in satm anfi
laces, diamonds and jot, and
quite the observed and ad
mired guest. Her toilet was
superb, and she did not reveal
herself until at the table, when
beckoning to a waiter wi'h
her forefinger, she cried out,
‘Waiter, here, I want a little
o' that 'ere jell!'
Sometimes a single phrase,
as ‘He done well,’ or T wiwbt
you would,' or ‘I waked you
up,’ mars the whole conversa
tion. As Dr. Holmes puts it,
‘The woman who calkilates is
lost’
It is hard to give up phrases
which one lias heard in young
er days, from lips loved and
r^veionced; but these little
verbal errors may decide
one’s future. I dislike to hear
a man spoken of as ‘smart;' it
suggests a mustard paste; or
to be told, in answer to an in
quiry about someone’s healtli
that he is ‘pretty smart.’ Why
do people speak of a stranger
as a ‘strange man’! You look,
expecting to see something
odd or wild, a hat askew, or
glaring eyes, and find a mo.'^.t
commonplace body.
Little phrases, oft-repeated
as fill-gaps, become intolera'i
ble. One leads you on through
a stupid narration or explana
tion of something you knew
clearly before he began, with
a constant ‘d’y see? see! see!’
Another puts in a ‘to-be-sure!
to-be-sure! to-be-sure!’ at
your every clause, which is
meant to be kindly apprecia
tive, but which teases a sensi
tive ear like a mosquito’s hum.
When persons are embar'* *
rassed, the lack of thorough
good-breeding is often made
apparent. At a baccalaureate
sermon the other • day, I
noticed an extiemely pretty
vouug lady going slowly and
rather hopelessly through the
crowded aisle for a seat. As
the search grew leas encour
aging, she turned to jome
one behind her and stuck out
her tongue. Of course, almo it
every one in that large con-*
gregatiou was looking at her,
for people, when a mass, al
ways turn their heads for the
slightest cause, and that Utile
unconscious gaucherie of hers
was seen by hundreds.
THE MOTHER OF MEN.
Some one, who had noticed the
influence of wives in promoting
the goo I. or evil fortunes of their
husbands, said, “A man must
ask his wife’s leave to be rich.”
We doubt not that a similar ob
servation of the influence of
mothers upon their sons would
justify the remark, “Aman must
ask his mother’s leave to be
great.”
Years ago, a family of four, a
father, a mother, and two sons,
dwelt in a small house, situated
in the roughest locality of the
rocky town of Ashford, Conn.
The family was very poor.
A few acres of stony land, a
dozen sheep and one cow, sup
ported them. The sheep clothed
them, and the cow gave milk,
and did the work of a horse in
ploughing and harrowing. Corn-
bread, milk and bean-porridge
was their fare.
The father being laid aside by
ill heslth, the burden of support
ing the family rested upon the
mother. She did her work in
the house, and helped ithe boys
do theirs on the farm. Once, in
the dead of winter, one of the
boys req.dred a new suit of
clothes. There was neither mon
ey or wool on hand, 'fho moth
er sheared the. half-grown fleece
from the sheep, and in one week
the suit wai on the boy. The
shorn sheep was protected from
the cold by a garment ma- lo of
braided straw.
The family lived four miles
from the “meeting-hooso.'’ Yet,
every Sunday, the mother and
her two sous walked to oburcb.
One of those sons became the
pastor of the church in Franklin,
Conn., to whom he preached for
sixty-one years. Two genera
tions went from that church to
make the world better.
Tue other son also became a
minister, and then one of the
most successful of college presi
dents. Hundreds of young men
were moulded by him.
That heroic Chrktian woman’s
name was Deborah Nptt. She
was the mother of the Rev. Sam ‘
uel Nott, D. D., and of Bliphalet
Nott, D. D., LL. D., President
of Union College.
No sensible man prefers wealth to
health. Some few have both; very many
liaveii’t either, Well, you may have
drst choice. Which will you take?
“Health.” Very well, what’s your ail
ment? “Alittle of everything.” What’s
the cause? ^iBloud out of urder, kid
neys weak, digestion bad, heart’s ac-
tion irregular.” Yes, and every dis
ease can be traced to these same
sources. Just take a few bottles of
Brown’s Iron Bitters, it will remove the
causes of disease and restore you to ro
bust health. Ask your druggist and
use Brown’s Iron Bitters.
The debating society of a rural vil
lage has decided that it doesn’t look
consistent for a girl to be a member of
the cbuichand then powder her hair to
catch the young men.
Mr. J. R. B. Carraway,New Berne,N,.
C., says: “I do not hesitate to say
that Brown’s Iron BittersJ is the best
tonic I ever used.”