Skip to Content
North Carolina Newspapers

The orphans' friend. volume (Oxford, N.C.) 1875-1895, November 30, 1883, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation of this newspaper page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

/ ^ 1 X: / X-7" Orphans Price, $1 a year.) OXFORD, N. C., NOVEMBER 30,1883. (VOL. IX. NO 28. To tlie Business Public. The Friend visits about FO ZfB SUNFRFI) Post-Offices in North Garolitm, thus giving advertisers the advantage o/ a general circulation. ORGANIZATION OF THE OR PHAN ASTEElfl. J. H. Mills—Superintendent. Miss E. M. Mack—Teacher of Third Form, Boys. Miss Lula Martin—Teacher Third Form, Uirls. Miss M. F. Jordan—Second Form, Boys. Miss Caroline rETTioRBW—Second Form, Girls. Mrs. Jordan—First Form, Boys. Mbs. Walker—Fir. t Form, Girls. Miss V. V. Walton—Vocal Music and Drawinij. Mrs. Rives—Hospital. Mrs. Hutchinson—Boys’ Sewing Room. Mrs. Fowler—Girls’ Sewing Room. Miss M. E. McPhbeters—In charge of Dining Booms. SPEGIAE DUTIES. Chapel—Cosby, Broadway and Mattie Filand. Chapel IjAMPs—E. Kelly. Chapel Stove—Douglass and A Keith. Office—H. Erwin. Library and Bell—L. Hudgins. Halls—Boyd, M. Gabriel, Voting. T. D. R.—Hood, Johnson, E. Wright. C. D. R.—Beddingfleid, Bivins, Hill, J. Hatch, powers, Watson. Cush—Lee. !^ILER—Tufford, S. Barfield. Water Shed—Haywood, Woodhouse Pigs—Grady, Hidmes. Milkers—^Mason. L. Hatch. Girls’ Sewing Room—Knox. Boys’ Sewing Room—^M. Hutchinson. • BOYS. Cook Room—^'Pate, Chambers. T. D. R-—^D. RatUlfe. C. D. B.—Prichard, McLeod, P. White, Lem Lynelt. Haywood, E. Woody. BoilbrXw. iiynch, Haywood. Lamp-Lighter—Gibson. Cow Boys—G. Poteat, Grady, W. Mc Guire. Mule BOY.S—Parkei-. Austin, Wilson, Jackson. Butler. Hog Boys—Prosson, C. Poteat. Pig Boys—Cosby. Fowler. Mail Boy -R. Poteat. 1HE MEDICAL VENUS. lu bis autoMogrflphy the lato Anthony Trollope tells an amus ing story of a poor forlorn little Englishmati whom he met again atid again in traveling through Switzerland, and over the Alps. He bad no friends and no apti tude for traveling, and was al ways making the most unlucky blunders, new losing his way, and then finding himself left without a bed at the inns or a seat in the coaches. “On one occasion,” said Air. Trollope, “I found him at Coire, seatod at five, A. M., in the of a dilligence which was intended to start at LOon for tho Engadine, while it was his pur pose to go over the Alps in an other which was to leave at half past five, and which was already crowded wilh passengers. «‘Ah ! ’ ho said, ‘I am in time now and nobody shall turn me out of this-, seat,’ alluding to for mer little misfortunea of which I had been a witness. “When I explained to him his position, he was as one to whom life was too bitter to be borne. But he made his way into Itally and encountered me again at the Pitti Palace in Florence. “ ‘Can you tell me something?^ he said to me in a whisper, hav ing ton. hed my shoulder. ‘The people are so ill-natured that I don’t like to ask them. Where is it they keep the Medical Ve nus?’ “I sent him to the TJffizi, but I fear he was disappointed. At all events hd could there find the statute of Venus do Medici, which was was what he wanted. ’’ Mrs. B. B. Nicholson, Littleton. N. C.. says: “1 took Brown’s Iron Bit ters for general ill-health and found them pleasant and beneficial.” NELLIE’S THANKSaiVINS LESSON. BY SUSAN ARCHER WEISS. Two little girls sat in a sun ny window**seat, busily string ing imitation coral necklaces of bright, red holly berries. The rocm was plainly furnish ed, but very neat and cheer'- fuKlooking; and the pretty children and two snowwliite kittens played on the floor be fore the fire. “'These will look lovely hung over the mantlepie e,’' said one of the girls, holding up a long, double festoon of berries. “I'll put them over gran Ima’s portrait, because she’s coming to eat Thanks giving dinner with us the day after to-morrow. Say, NeK lie, will your folks keep Thanksgiving?” “I don’t know.” Nellie aiw swered, indifferently, adding, as she measured the length of her necklace, “I don’t see why we should. I canT think what gieat things we’ve got to give thanks for."’’ At this the other little girl laughed, but then said, quick- 'j'- “Why, Nellie, iPs real wicked to talk so!’’ “Well, itfi true, anysway,’’ answered Nellie, in an injured tone. “We’re so poor, and father has to woik so bard at ti»e (oundry, atnl mother at her sewing'-niachine. and we have to do ^irhtvut so uiAny t'l ngs that we want, that I c.iin t feel as if we ought to be t-xpected to beghi-l and thank ful like other folks.” ‘ But our minister said, I st Sunday, that eveixbody has something to be thankful for ’’ “Maybe so,” said Nellie, with a shrug of her shoiders; “But I can’t see it. Now, if I were rich, like Julia Shelby, who rides by here every clay in a fine carriage, or if I lived in a grand house like Judge Martin’s children, I would have something to b'e thank ful for. I was at the Shelbys yesterday,’^ she added, with sudden animation, “to get sewing for mother, and in the kitchen they were getting ready for Thanksgiving. Oh, such lots of good things! There were turkeys and cakes and pies and jellies that ju 't made my mouth water to look at’em. I don’t see why some folks should be so rich and others so poor,” concluded Nellie, discontentedly. Now, Mrs. Gfrey, Nellie’s moLhor. had heard all this through the open door near which she sat at work, and she felt very much grieved at her little daughter’s discon tented and ungrateful spirit. However, she said nothing at the time, though Nellie notic ed that she looked thoughtful all the evening. Next morning after their early breakfast, site called Nellie to her. She was going out, she said on an enand or two, and she gave her little daughter a small basket to carry, while she herself took a larger one, containing some sewing which she had done for Mrs. Shelby, the wife of the rich man in whose iron foundries her husband work ed, Tho little girl felt quitj awe-struck as she walked up to the big house, and then Piissed up the richly'-car[)eied staircase into a large and handsome room, where Mrs. Shelby sat in a cushioned roriking-chair, She was a pile, delicate-looking woman, and, Nellie thought, did not look as happy as such a rich lady ought to.' By a window sat lier little daughter, Julia, whom Nellie h*!;! often seen riding out in a fine carriage, with a coachman and footman, in livery. S'lo was painting a bunch of fliiwers at a little desk, and while Mrs. Shelby -examined and paid for Mrs. Grey’s work, and talked a little with her, Nehio looked curiously at the pi’f-tty painting. Presently, Julia perceived this, and .said: “Wouldn’t you like to look at some of my drawings?-” “Did you do all these your- selt?” . Inquired Nellie, in wondti’ing admiration. “I don’t see how you could find time to.” “I have plenty of time,’' an swered the little girl. “I sit hero almost all day, except when I ride out in the raorif- ing and evening, when the weather is fine.” “Yes, I’ve seen you driv ing past our house,’’ “And I have seen you play-, ing about in that largo field wliere the buttercups grow, How I wish I could run about and enjoy myself as you do!” She said this witl\ a wear, sigl) as she leaned back in h- r chair, and then Nellie noticad a little crutch proped up against the w-dl close beside her When Nellie and her moth • er wove again out of doors, she fi.aid: “Mother, only think that little girl can’t run about, or even walk without a crutch! And I don’t believe that she can be happy, although she is so rich and has everything so handsome around her.” “She has all that money can procure/’ answered Mrs. Grey; “for her parents try all they can to make her happy. But I think they would give ail their wealth for what you possess, Nellie.” “Me, mother?” “Yes, child. You have one of the greatest oi blessings— Health. Mrs. Shelby’s chil dren were sickly, and all died but this little girl, who will be a cripple as long as she lives. Think of it, Nellie,and tell me if you have not cause to be grateful that you and all ot us are strong and heal thy?” Nellie answered not a word hut she looked up in her mother’s face, and silently clasped her hand as she walk ed she walked beside her. They stopped at tbe gi'o- cer’s wliere Mrs. Grey made some purchases. “What are we to have for our Thanksgiving dinner to morrow, mother?’’ inquired Nellie, when they again found the oselves on the street. ‘Some nice roast-beef, a chicken, and apple-pie.” “A chicken? Turkey would be nicer,” Nellie remarked. “The Shelbys have got the biggest turke)’ that ever was, aud iot.-i of cake.’’ ‘I doubt whether poor lit tie .X’«*!ia will Iiave an anpoJte for the turkey; and as to the cake, T, dont think the doctor allows her to eat such things. But-let us turn down this nar row street,Nellie,I have some sugtrand tea, and a honie- .mado loaf, to help oi:t Mrs. Miisby’s Thanksgiving dinner to~mbrrow.” “Does she keep Thanksgiv** ing,y mother? Wh}', she’s old andipoor, and live.s air alone in ' that one mean little roo'ih ot iiers. What has she got to be thankful for? I should think she would gruni' bleall t'le time, to see every- ' ody else better off than her'- seif.” They found the old worhaii seated at her late me”ning meal, whicii was to her both breakfast and din ner, There wa.s some bread .^nc tea, a bit of fried salt ba con, and a potato, but, as Nel lie noticed, no butter nor ;;u- ga.r. She received her visitors cheerfully,and was very thank ful for what Mrs. Grey bad brought. “Folks : re very kind to mo,’’ slie said. “It was only just now that Barney O’SuIli van's wife me a nice mackerel and some potatoes ; and what with this good tea. and bread, 111 have a real Tlianlfsgiviug dinner. And surely,” she added, more gravely, as she wiped her spectacles upon her clean, c'A ckered apron, “the h>s given me much to bo thankful for.” “You seem ]>rotty strorjg aud and active for vour age,” Mrs. Grey remarked. “Indeed, ma'am, that is true, I am nearly eighty, but hard! v ever have a twinge of rhevma, and I can go about enough to attend to my own work. Then the neighbors are so kind. There isn’s adaythnf I don’t thank the Lord lor ail that He does, and puts in the hearts of others to do for me. Yes, yes; I’ve a great deal to be thankful for. Nellie listened at first won- deringly as shei^lanced around the poor apartment, in coni- parisoii with which her own home, plain as it was, seeuif Q luxurious. And then iiur con science began to smite her. It was only yesterday that she, young,strong andliealthy, and with a happy and coinfo, > table home, and h-vlng pa rents to care for her, liad wickedly declared that she had notliingto be thankful f-H ! Next day, when the faaiily oat dowo to their Thanksgiv ing dinner, and Mr. Grey pre pared to carye the cliicken, remarked, playfully: “Our Thanksgiving turkey is rather a small one—hey, Nellie ? And she answered, brightly : “We shall enjoy it just as much as the Shelbys do their ])ig turkey; and its a great (leal better tlian old Mrs. Mos- i)y’s s.alt mackerel. Dow many people there are, l ithe’', wh (an’c afford even a d'icken lor their'Thanksgiving dinners! ’ “Perliaps,” liCi* father said— “perhaps next T ai’ksgiving we shall be able treat our selves to a real turkey.’’ And then Nellie Ic^avned to her jjy that Mr. Shelby had promoted her father to bo tore- man at the foundry. “Oh,I am so glad!” she cried, clapping her hands, “because you and motlier won’t have to work so hard new. I have been thinking all day, and found out that we have a great many things to be thankful for. But this good news makes ours a real Thanksgiving—don’t it, mother?” THE FOUB TEIALS. There was once an old monk who was walking through a forest with a little scholar by his side. The old man suddenly stopped and pointed to four plants close at hand. The first was begin- Ding to peep above tbe ground tlie second had rooted itself pre!ty well into the earth; the third was a small 8hrub;whilst tlie fourth and last was a full vSizod tree. Then the old monk said to his young com- p inion: ‘Pull up the first.’ The youth easily pulled it up witli his fingers. ‘Now pull up the second.' The youth obeyed, but not so easily. ‘And the third.’ But the boy had to put' forth all his strength and put f 'rth both arms before he succeeded in uprooting it. ‘And now,’’ said the maskr, ‘iry your hand upon the ii.'rth.’ But lo 1 the trunk of the tall time (grasped in the arms of ti:y yoi^thy Bcarcely ^ tlie leaves; and the little fellow f"und it impossible to tear in- r>ots from the ea'th. Then the wdse old m(>iik explained to his scholar tiic meaning of the four trials. ‘This, ojy son, is just wl at happens with our passions When they are young and weak one may, by a little watchfuineos over self, and the help of a little self-denial, easily tear them up; but it we let them cast their roots def»p down into our souls.then no human power can uprooi them; tbe almighty hand the Creator alone can pluck inem out, ‘For this reason, my child, watch over the first move ments of your soul, and study bv'' acts of viitue to keep your jjassions well in check — Witness. Tlie late Judge Black h id a powerlul ear for music. His daugiiier used to oiay some thing that pleased him. It wiiS 'Lucy' Neal.’ It became Ids favorite. When Becky would be playing for visitoi’s t:ie Judge would say: Now Beck give us my favorite, 'Lu- cv Neal, and Becky slyly winking at the guest, would [ilay ‘Old Dan 'Tucker,' or ‘Old Hundred.’ As she co..- eluded, the Judge would tip back in his chair and exclaim: ‘That's my favorite? ’ and couldn’t uader.stami what the jieople were laughiiigat. Coui’age is a noble trait. With some it requires more courage to live tuaii it tloes to die. When diseases rack tlie frame, when sores cover the persm, wiieu aches are in every joint, when the mustFes are soft ami flabby, when the least exertion gives fatigue, when tiie mind is filled with gloom and des pondency, what is there in life worth living, and yet many eke out just such a inisei'iible existence, living only for tliose who love them. Wlien it is gen erally known that Brown’s Iron Bitters will cure the above disorders how nany licyrts will be made gladl How many liomos made happyl A WORN OUT STOMACHS. Tho man who lives to eat, is quite 1i’«celv to die of eating. The end may come from a disecsed liver, the failure of the kidneys, gout, paralysis, or appoploxy. The ailments that lead on to it may be many, various, and cost ly, the remote cause of which may not even be suspected, the doctor inly saying,“What’s the use of telling ? they will eat what their soul lusteth.’’ Or the fatal stroke may conio in a moment of highest apparent health, some little weakened ves sel of the brain giving way, as the strong heart, after a good dinner, hurls the superabundant blood to tho brain. But ea‘ ing may give death instead of life in another way. The stomache is a wonderfully strong organ. It will boar an immense deal of abuse. No brute is guilty of so much. But there is limit to what it can Lear. Were it not so, millions of the human kind would more than embrute themselves; for the brute keeps to his instinct, while man’s appetite eften outrages in stinct, reason and common-Renso. Now the power to digest is in part dependent ou the gastric juice secreted by the stomach. This isa limited quantity,and the food that exceeds this irritates the eoqts of the stoniaeli and is thrown from it an undigosteil,fer menting muGs. The same process daily re peated iafl&mes these coats, es pecially tho mucus membrane, which then pours out large quantities of mucuLi (phlegm) 'fhis still further impedes diges tion. The inflamed membrane,press ing against tho tiny mo dhs of the gastric glands, obstructs I heir secretion. Medicines are then in order, to stimulate both appetite and digestion at tbe expense of ultimate exhaustion At length the gastric glands cease more and more to secrete the digestive- fluid; the stom ach loses all susceptibility oven to the physician’s medicin 3s, and the person gradually starves; the stomache being utterly woru out by incesant over-work, A friend and neighbor of ours thu died.— Youths Companion. .HOLY LIFE. A holy life is made up of a number of small things; little ivords, not eloquent speeches or sermons, little deeds, not mira cles or battles, nor one groat he roic act of mighty martrydom, make up the true Christian life, 'the little, constant sunbeam, not the lightning; tho waters of Siloam “that go softly’’ in the meek mission of refreshment,not the “waiters of tho river, great and many,” rusliing down in noisy torrent^, are tho true sym bols of a holy life. The avoid ance of Utile evils, little sins, lit tle inconsistencies, little weak nesses, little follies, indiscretions and imprutlcjnces, little foibles, little indulgoncos of the flesh; tho avoidaii’es of such little things as these go far to make up at least, the negative beauty ot a holv life.—Bonar. For the year ending Nov. 1, 2,577,946 barrels of salt have been produced in Saginaw valley Michigan, the price realized be ing 80 cents a barrel.

North Carolina Newspapers is powered by Chronam.

Digital North Carolina