i
Orphans’ Friend.
Price, $1 a year.)
OXFORD, N. C., DECEMBER 14,1883.
(VOL. IX. NO 30.
To the Business Public.
The Friend visits about FO UR
BUNFRFD Fost-Offices in North
Carolina, thus giving advertisers the
advantage of a general circulation.
OBOANIZATION OF THE OR
PHAN ASYEEH.
J. H. MiiiLS—Suiperintendent.
Miss E. M. Ma.ck—Teacher of Third
Form, Boys.
Miss Lula Martin—Teacher Third
Form, (jlirls.
Miss M. F. Jordan—Second Form,
Boys.
Miss Caroline rETTiGREW—Second
Form, Girls.
Mrs. Jordan—First Form, Boys.
Mrs. Walker—^P’irtt Form, Girls.
Miss V. V. Walton—Vocal Music and
Drawing.
Mrs. Rives—Hospital.
Mbs. Hutchinson—Boys’ Sewing
Room,
Mufi. Fowler—Girls’ Sewing Room.
Miss M. E. McPhebters -In charge
of Dining Rooms.
SPECIAL DVTIE8.
GIRLS.
Chapel—Cosby, Broadway and Mattie
k'iland.
Chapel I^ahps—E. Kelly.
Chapel Stove—Douglass and A
Keith.
Office—H. Erwin.
Library and Bell—L. Hudgins.
Halls—Boyd, M. Gabriel, Young.
T. D. R.-Hood, Johnson, E. Wright.
C, D. It.—Beddingfleld, Bivins, Hill,
J. Hatch, Powers, Watson.
SSl^Tufford, S. Barfield.
Water Shed—Haywood, Woodhouse
Pigs—Grady, Holmes.
Milkei^—Mason, L. Hatch.
Girls’ Sewing Room—Knox.
Boys’ Sewing Room—M. Hutchinson.
BOYS.
Cook Room—Tate, Chambers.
T. D. B —D. RatlifFe.
C. D. R.—Prichard, McLeod, P. White,
Lem Lynch, Haywood, E. Woody.
Boiler—W. Lynch, Haywned.
T-amp-Lighter—Gihspn.
Cow Boys—G. Poteat, Grady, W. Mc-
Mule Boys—Parher, Austin, Wilson,
.Jackson. Butler.
Hog Boys—Presson, C. Poteat.
Pig Boys—Coshy, Fowler.
Mail Boy -R. Poteat.
IN GOD’S BOOK,
BY GEORGE B. GRIFFITH.
With rosy faces saddened.
'Neath sunlig'4 w; rm and bland,
Two t'lOVK who inourne 1 f -r mother
W.re walki ig hand-in-hand.
A WONDBErUL BEEAM.
Thftj' knew why ev’ry passer,
Along the leafy road,
And those beside their windows,
Such looks on tliero bcstoweii,
Tender, pathetic, tearful,
Each kindly glancj they read,
And understood its meaning,
'^J)ear boys, your mother's dead, ’
“Ob, Artie! ” sobbed the younge-.t,
A bright-eyed, chubby lad,
“The neighbors have forgotten
That we’ve been rude and bad !”
“All boys are naughty somet'mos,
The eldest one replmd)
'“And mother dear foi'gave us
And blessed us ere she died,’'
“Last night,” said Elver, slowly,
“1 nromised God in prayer,
That i would be His fai’ hful child,
If he would for me care,
“I mean, to act so every day
That He with joy can loot,
Into my heart, and write my name
Within his Holy book,
“And, Artie, only think, some day,
Upon those images fair
With smiling eyes mama will look,
And see it written there'^
Ah, reader 1 could philosopher
jlore precious thought express?
Our God, who surely an swers prayer,
Will little i'.lver bless,
And many an anxious soul to day
Will hope, with true delight,
That angel eyes have read their
names
In lines of living light.
A merchant who was a God
fearing man who was very
successful in business, but his
soul did not seem to prosper
accordingly; his offering to
the Lord ho did not seem dis-
to increa e.
On© evening he bad a re
markable dream. A visitor
entered the apartment and
quietly looked around at the
many elegancies and luxuries
by which he was surrounded,
and with out any comment
presented him with the re
ceipts for his* subscription to
various societies and urged
their claims upon his enlarg
ed sympathy.
The merchant replied with
various excuses and at last
grew impatient at the contin
ual appeals. The stranger
arose and fixing his eyes on
his companion, said in a voice
that thrilled his soul.
One year ago to-night you
thought your daughter lay
yoB could not rest
from agony. Upon whom
did you call that nigjit ?
The merchant started and
looked up, there seemed a
change to have passed over
the whole form of his visitor,
whose eyes were fixed upon
him with a Ciilm penetrating
look as he continued;
Five years ago, when you
lay at the brink of the grave
and thought that if you died
} ou would leave a family un
provided for- - do you reruem-
l>(. r how you prayed then ?
Pausing a luomeut, he went
on in a stiil more impressive
'one:
‘Do you remember, fifteen
years sine*^, wiien you spent
days and nights in prayer:
when you thought you would
give the world for one hour’s
assurance that you sins were
forgiven — who listene ' to
you then?
‘It was my Savior and my
God ! ^ said the merchant, with
a sudden remorsful feeling
‘Oh, yes, it was He !’
‘And has he ever complain
ed of being called ou too of
ten I’ in a voice of reproach
ful sweetness. Say are you
willing to begin this night and
ask no more of him, if he,
from this time, will ask no
more of you ?
‘Oh, never, never 1 ’ said
the merchant, throwing him'*
self at his feet.
The figure vanished, and he
awoke; his sou) stirred within
him.
‘Oh, God and Savior, what
have! been doing! Take
all—take everything. What
is all that I have done, tO'
what thou hast done for me I ’
—Sel.
IS ESUITEENITESS A DISEASE.
Binghamton, and that the
troui le with most of them was
not that they could not be cur •
ed,but they did not want t'> he.
The Norwich (Conn.) Bulletin
says: The truth that drunk
enness is voluntary in 999
cases out ol 1 OOO’—is'^itselt a
crime, and onght'to be consid
ered an aggr^vvation of every
offence committed under its.
influence.’ That is; sound
doctrine. It is not a disease
any more than a tendency to
theft or any manner of vice
or crime is such. Pity the
drunkard as you pity any
other vicious or criminal char
acter, so as to desire his re
formation and^aid him in any
honest effort he m’y make to
redeem himself. But he should
he’made too see^the fact/ that
he is not incurring an amia
ble weakness, to be passed by
with a pleasant jest, but com
mitting a crime against him
self, his family, society,, and
God. Men occasionally, in
their theories and plans of hu
manitarian character, become
wiser and better than God and
Scripture, l.ut soon or late,
stubborn facts convince them
of their error. God’s Word
ranks drunkenness as sin,
classes it with gross and hein
ous sins, and denounces the
same terrible penalties against
it as against the rich. Let
God be true, though all hu •
man theories be proved to be
false by his truth Southwest-
ern Methodist.
HEnmSTSTOSY.
Beautifal Tribute to Women-
A recent issue of the St.
Louis BepuhUcan bad a well
written editorial, with the
.above caption, taking ground
against th® theory, for some
time so prevalent, that drunk
enness is a disease, and claim
ing that a man’s free will bad a
great deal to do with his drink
ing to excess or abstaining from
doing so. A correspondent
of the Bepuhlican refers to this
editorial approvingly, and
claims to have had opportu
nity to observe a large num
ber of cases of patients treated
for inebriety in the asylam a
We have seen many beau-,
tiful tributes to women, but
this is the finest we ever read:
‘Place her among the flow
ers, foster her as a tender
plant, and she is a thing of
fancy, waywardness, and fol
ly—annoyed by a dew drop,
fretted, by the touch of a but
terfly’s wing, ready to faint at
the sound of a beetle or the
rattleing of a window srsli at
night, and is overpowered by
the perfume of the rosebud.
But let real c ilamity come,
rouse her affections,"enkindle
the fires of her heart, and
mark her then- how strong is
her heart! Place her in the
heat of battle-give her a child,
a bird, or anything to protect
--^-aud see her in a relative in
stance, lifting her whi'.e arms
as a shield, as her own blood
crimson her upturned forehead
praying for her life to protect
the helpless. Transplant her
in the dark places of thegOarth,
call forth her energies to ac
tion and her breath becomes
a healing, her presence a bless
ing. She disputes inch by
ienh the strides of a stalking
pestilence, when mao, th*
strong and brave, pale and
affrighted, shrinks away.
MifsortuiiG hurts her not; siie
wears away a life in silent en
durance, and goes forth with
less timidity than to her bri
dal In prosperity she is a bud
full •of odors, waiting but for
thehands of adversity to scat
ter them abroaJ'-gold, valua
ble,but untried in the furnace.
In short, woman is a miracle,
a mystery, the centre from
which radiates the charm of
existence’
We all naturally feel a cu
riosity to know how a favor
ite author came to be an au
thor. Accident generally
plays a part in it, particular’
ly in the case of the greatest
writers. Indeed few have
any adequate conception ol
their powers and- capabilities
until theydiave been tested,
though indications of what is
beneath the surface generall}^
“crop out” very early in life.
George Eliot was thirty-five
years of age before she
bad so much as thought
of writing a story. She and
her husband werejust;8ettling
down, after a summer holid iy
on the C-'mtinent to a winter
of literary hack-wmrk in Lon
don. Their circumstances
were straightened, she having
revenue of eighty pounds a
year from her fathers estate
which she may have doub'ed
by her pen, and he earned a
very modest income by con
tributing to Blackwood a;id
other periodicals.
One day her husband said
to her, “My dear, I think you
could write a capital story'’
The wmrds s mk into her
mind. A short time after
wards, as he was preparing to
go out to dinner, at wlrch
she was expected, sh.} said to
him.—
“I won’t go out this even
ing, and when you come in
don’t disturb me; I shall be
very bu8>
Soon she was able to show
the opening portions of lier
first tale, “Amos Bario' ,
wljicb amazed him, high as
had f»een his estimate of her
genius. He sent the completed
story to Blackwood, in which
it appeared not long after.
Other stories followed, and
finally, ‘‘Adam Bede,” a ful’v
developed novel, was publish
ed, which gave her a r;ink
among the greatest writers of
fiction.
Durng this long period Mr.
John Blackwood bad nev.
er met his brilliant coritubu-
tor, and still supposed that
George Eliot was a gentleman
—probably a clergyman. On
one of his visits to London,
he was invited by Mr. Lewes
to dinner, “to meet George
Eliot.”
He came Dinner was an
nounced; no one sat down ex
cept Mr. and Mrs. L-^ wes and
himself. Conversation prov
ing very interesting, he mad®
no allusion to his disappoint-
ment, until the dinner wu.s
over, when he said how much
he regretted that George Eliot
was not present.
“Here he is,’’ said Mr
Lewes, pointing to his wife,
who sat quietly enjoying the
climax of their little corned)'.
Mr. Blackwood shook hands
with hi^. contributor, and the
evening passed very happi
ly-
When I dig a ma,n out of
trouble, the hole that he leaves
behind iiim is the grave where
I bury my own trouble.
At a microscopic exhibition
in Boston the sting ot a hon
ey bee was shown upon t!ie
screen, and it was so sharp
that the point could not be
seen. A fine sewing-needle
was shown at the ’same time,
and the point witli the same
power of the micrescope was
five inches across. “God can
make a fine point,” said the
exhibitor, “but man cannot."
ASKING A BLESSING-
There is nothin'^ wliich it is
right for 118 to do; but it is als'
right to atik that God wou:d
bless it; and indeed, there is
nothing 80 little ‘ ut the frown of
God can convert it into the mo^t
sad calamity, or his smile exalt
it into a most memorable mercy;
and there is nothing we can do.
but its complexion for weal and
woe depends entirely on what
the Lord will make it.
It is said of Matthew Henry
that no joui’t.ey was undertaken,
nor any subject or course of ser
mons entered upon, nor book
committed to the press, nor any
trouble apprehended or felt with
out a particular application to
the mercy-Beat for diro. tio .■ s-
eistauce and success.
It is- recorded of Corniiliu.
Winter that he seldom opened a
book, oven on f-^enoral subject/.,
without a*momert’s prayer.
The late Bishop, llebor, (m
each new incident of his hi-^tory,
or on the eve of any undertak
ing, used to compo e a brief
prayer, imploring special help
and guidance.
A late physician of great co-
iebrity used to ascribe miicii of
his success to three maxims of
hi8 father’s, the last and best of
which wa'', “Always pray !>f
your patients.’ ’
KIDNAPPED BY A BEAS.
In the famous mill(!- nial
prophecy in the Bible, the men
tion of “a little child’’ with sav
age beasts brings together iir:o-
eence and ferocity in one bo:i’: t i'’ul
picture. Real .situations l;k- ‘. hat
are so rare that they seem acci
dental, but every story li!'’ ihe
following somehow makes us feel
that even a wild beast may bo
disarmed .ind made harmlobs by
t o ’otn{i;in’ mship of a cii’bd
A bai'v months old, ii;e
child I f .iaim '* Vaughan of G( a-
tle Valiev, was playing near its
mother rc-cently, says the Ox
ford (H.) Enterp'ise, when all
at once .-bo misled the child,and
conimonced searching for it in
every direction, but could not
find it. “
She then aiarmod the neigh
bors, and Bovonteen of them
went in search of tke infant.
No trace of the child could
be fcund,and the frantic parents
almost concluded that it had
fallen a victim to some bca^'t of
prey. The soarcb-ms at le igth
found the tracks of a hug.,: hear,
and traced them through the
fields.
Becoming tired they retu: ned to
their bouses, concluding tlRt tie
child must be dead, and pei'hepB
eaten up.
At the break of next day they
started on their search from
the spot left on the night bclbr
and at about ten o’clock, A. >
found the baby curled up in a
bunch of weeds and gras- in tiie
bushes, sound asleep, witli its
litie tattered and torn driss
thrown over iis head, while ckise
beside the sleeping child wa the
warm bed of what must have
been a very large bear, which
had abandoned its captive on the
approach of the men in searcli.
Wonderful to relate, yet tiie
fact is vouched for by trutbi'ul
men who have seen the child,
not a bruise or iuj try did th«
child receive except a slight
-cratch on its little bare foot
although the child had been Car
rie 1 by the bear three or four
miles into the mountains over
rough phic.-'s aiid through bushes.
HOW BAY SAN AWAY-
L'ttle four-year-old Ray
was very angry as lie sat by
tlie window looking at the
carriage foil of merry children
who ivere st>irting for grand*
pahs to a Thanksgiving dinner.
Why liH had not hoen al
lowed to gO wirh them I hard
ly like to tell you; for the
fact iiJ, he had been a very
naughty boy, a:id his punish'*
ment was to slay' at home
with mamma, who was too ill
to go.
T don’t c.are, I’ll run away,’
miiltored Hay', kicking the
plasteiing with his copper
toed shoes.
‘I will,’ he «dded,a mcruent
alter, ns niiding down from
the chair he seize 1 his cap
id started dovvn tln^ ]--,no.
Away across the brook, up
on the great hill,* the beech'*
nuts grew, and Ray knew it.
To be sure it was rather late
for bcecbnnrs, bat he did not
stop to think of that. Oa be
went, lus face red with the ran
and his eyes dancing at the
thought of the nuts and
manuna’s fright
But suddenly, as be had aL
most re.icim:! the top.of the
hill v'i.. )• the beech-trees
gn-’v, lie hoard a noise in the
brshes, and without waiting
to see what it. was away he
went tow'ards home. Oh,
what a Ion ( way off home
w,i,J W'Uild he ever get there!
The raspberry bushes scratch*
({ Ids ha' ds a id tore liis
dr: si^; and tne stones and logs
re idways in the w ;y to
trip him up While behind
him the quick feet were com
ing nearer.
Once he looked back, only
once, he did not dare to look
again, for he saw something
black among the bushes.
Surely it was a bear. Ab, if
he liad looked back, he would
have seer.—what do you sup*
pose!
into the house he went,and
slamming the door, peeped
through the sidelights and tiaw
his own Smut, the lamb he
bad petted all summer.
He did not tell, oh no; but
ioamma had been watching
Jiim air the while from her
window up stairs. She told
me tlie story as 1 lellit to you.
Youths' Companion.
Oa ! thrice fools are we,
who, like iiew-uorn princes
weeping in the cradle, know
not that there m a kingdom
befor e them. Holiness is not
blind Illumination is the
fir.i part of sanctifioation.
Believers are childrtiQ ot
liKht'
We unhesitatingly condemn
in o'hers the very same faults
in which we indidgeomselves.
Were vve as iinient t • their
faults a*' we are to our own^
if it bid not make us bolter, it
would make us ;tl, least less
ceusoi'iuus:
If the chiidreu are not
taught, lrai,.od and brought
upt.oOurst, the conversion
oi Uie world will tarry long,
weary ages. Here is our
battle ground. Let the whole
Church take a part—not one
in ten.