Newspapers / The Chatham Record (Pittsboro, … / June 9, 1881, edition 1 / Page 1
Part of The Chatham Record (Pittsboro, N.C.) / About this page
This page has errors
The date, title, or page description is wrong
This page has harmful content
This page contains sensitive or offensive material
4 djtafham jucorH. V H. A. LONDON, Jr., JXXTOB AND PEOnuSTOR. v TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION: VYl ' BATES or Ay v '6 vv ADVERTISING. On quar, one Insertion, One square, two Insertloii, O&e square, one month, Pnecory. no jimr, ...... ij.00 J - c - 1.50 2.39 On copy .six mouiha ux)l Que opr. threa umatta, - - . vol. ni. PITTSBOHO CHATHAM CO., N. C, JUNE 9, 1881. NO. 39. Tm larger adrerttssmeota liberal cob tracts vrfU i CLlf 0 , irsr ; . l The Jilted Star. I was sitting alone in the gloaming, (lazing into a quiet sky ; My thoughts w ere tired of roamiug, As weary and tired as I, When all at ouce in the sky aliovo Shone a star of radiant light, And then it was that I fell in love With this star, so strangely bright I knew 'twas a world many miles away, Far greater and fairer than this, But I watt'hed for its coming at close of Jay, And always tlirew it a kiss. To my tired self it became a friend. Bringing rest before unknown ; Its tender radiance seemed to blend In my heart and make mo its own. Put ala .' too soon I grew weary Of its cold, dispassionate face, And a little mortal pang In my heart crept into its place. And whm at the clo.-p of day, With my now love at my siio, We talked in voices gay, And f-he promised to be my bride. The star looked down from alwe As wo stood tiure talking together, And I thought of the change in my love And she of the change in the weather.' But that night, when the world was sleeping The rain in torrents fell, And I thought could my star be weeping IVr the false one she lovod so well ? HE LEARNED TOO LATE. The summer was like no other sum mer the world had ever known. Never was J une so sweet ; never were mornings so rosy and radiant ; never were lights so tender. A young and beautiful girl stood look ing at the sunset as the last farewell glow bathed the blue waves with golden radhnce. To look at her face one would never dream that her position m life was not among the proudest ; but a glance at her simple dress would dispel the illu sion. Flossy Thayer had been brought up by her grandfather in a quiet, secluded country neighborhood. The old gentleman was wealthy. Flossy was the darling of his heart, and great pains were lavished upon her education. The grandfather's health was not good, and they traveled a great deal, often spend ing the winter in the South. They had been there when the crash came"; Mr. Thayer lost his money. He was the most honorable man alive ; he returned home, paid his liabilities to the last farthing, sold the beautiful country seat where Flossy had spent her childhood and es tablished himself in an old farmhouse by the sea, with hardly enough money left to live upon. So for four years Mr. Thayer and his granddaughter had lived quietly enough in their retreat. So far as the' old gen tleman knew, Flossy had been happy, but in truth she was always waiting for some wonderful change that was to free her from the humdrum life in which her life was passing. But it was neverthe less true that no palace ever sheltered a maiden more royally fair than she. And so thought some one else as he drew near her with quick, light footsteps. Tall and straight , with dark, laughing eyes and mouth shadowed by a mous tache, Mark Norton was just fitted to win the fancy of a young, inexperienced girl. "So you have been waiting for me ? Hap2y man to have won the love of one so fair and sweet." A glow of crimson tinged the girl's face as the eyes uplifted to meet her lover's told plainly what was in her heart. While the young people con versed Mark took Flossv's hand in bis and told her something which made the teardrops quickly start. "Do not grieve, dear Flossy. I shall only bo gone a short time, and you know that if it were not necessary nothing could take me from you. You are not afraid that absence could alter my love ? Flossy, you do not doubt me?" She was young and unused to the world, and it is no wonder that she trusted Mark Norton, who, to her, was the noblest and grandest of men. They parted. Mark Norton, following his physician's advice had come that sum mer to the quiet country town by the sea to regain his health, which had loDg been delicate. In one of his rambles he had met Flossy, and being shy and shrinking, it had been the work of a long time to establish himself upon friendly terms with the girl, whose beauty sur passed any he had ever seen. It was not long before, with a thrill of vanity, Mark could see the hold he had gained in her innocent heart. One day, in an swer to his whispered question, Flossy acknowledged that her heart was his, and he placed a golden band of betrothal upon her slender finger. For a time after his departure letters from her lover came regularly to Flossy ; but after awhile the letters came less frequently, and then when three months had passed the looked-for letter came. It read, oh, how coldly, and contained his farewell : "I am going abroad. I shall probably be absent several years. Our immediate marriage is nowof course, an impossibility. I could not ftsk you, nor do I feel it right to hold you, through an indefinite time, to your pledge, therefore I free you." Once, twice she read the letter through ; then, with white face and tear less eyes, held it to the match with a steady hand, nor let it fall until the flame crept so close that it blackened the ten der flesh and the letter lay singed and charred under her feet That day she went into her grandfather's room and laid her head on his. "Don't talk to me, grandpa," she said, "and don't ask me any questions, but we will keep house alone, you and IT and we'll forget that we intended to let anybody else in." "The scoundrel ! If you had been rich, my child, this sorrow would not have come upon yon. But, mark my words, some time you will have your re venge." Four years have swiftly passed. Seated in a room in one of the popular hotels in New York were two young men. Sud denly one of them, looking out of the window, exclaimed : "Look, Aubrey! See if you know who that lady is. What a lovely woman. Do you know her?" "I should think that I did, and think myself honored that I do. She is the belle of New York and the most beauti ful girl I have ever known." A smile curled Mark Norton's lips as he turned from the window. "You speak warmly, Aubrey," he said. "You would not blame me for speak ing warmly if you knew her," he an swered. 1 'Her history is a romantic one. If you like I will tell it to you." "Her name is Miss Flossy Thayer. When I first knew her she was not wealthy, though in my eyes even then her beauty surpassed anything that I had ever seen. It was not long after ! you went on your travels that an uncle i of mine, who had purchased a place by the sea, invited me to spend the summer with him. It was a very quiet, secluded village, and I soon became acquainted with Flossy. Not long after that the old grandfather died, and my kind aunt took the sorrowing girl into her houte. My uncle had the papers in his posses sion of some mining shares that the old gentleman had long deemed worthless, which suddenly arose, first to par, then so widely above as to enable Flossy to regain her footing in the world. As be fore, all that the grandfather had crumbled into powder, now all that he had left was converted into gold." As Mark Norton listened varied ex pressions flitted across his face. He knew that the maiden whose heart he had won and cast aside for his own amusement and this beautiful heiress must be one and the same person. Might it not be that if he exerted his art of fascination to the utmost he could soon regain the lqve he had once held ? "Aubrey," he said, "I should like to meet this Miss Thayer. Could you manage to present me to her ?" That night the two friends entered tlie drawing room, in which a brilliant crowd was assembled. A little later Mark Norton stood beside Flossy. She had never looked more beautiful than she did then in her creamy costume of saf in and -fleecy lace, looped with dia mond stars. "3Iis Thayer, allow me to present you to Mr. Norton." Flossy bowed as to an Titter stranger. An instant her lip curled, and then she hid it in an alluring smile. "As he has made me suffer, so shall his suffering be." "She loves me still," thought Mark Norton, proudly, as, later, he went ouf into the starlit night. "I feared I had lost her, but I shall win her yet. How lovely she is. I believe this time my heart will be the stake !" With proud confidence Mark but waited the best time fitted for him to speak the fateful words. At last the opportunity was his. She smiled, as he thought, with joy as he asked her now to give him his reward. Then the smile turned into icy scorn, the look he had interpreted of love altered into con tempt, the sweet tones grew harsh as in a few cutting phrases she spoke the words that doomed him. "I love you, Flossy believe me, I love you for yourself," he replied, and for once the man was sincere. A look of scorn flashed from Flossy's eyes as she withdrew her arm from his. "Mr. Norton," she said, "your repent ance has come too late. As I once loved, I now despise you." Mark Norton's face flushed before the contempt in her voice. He felt that she had- read aright the selfish motive of his false heart. Not long after Mr. Norton received a letter and a small packet con taining two cards tied together by a knot of bridal ribbon. Upon one was the name "Flossy Thayer; upon the other, "Mr. and Mrs. Aubrey Merritt." A contemporary has been asked: "Can a man belong to a brass band and be a Christian?" It replies: "We see no impediment in the way. But if he is a member of a brass band, and is given to practising on a cornet or trombone at home, it is a very difficult thing for the man living next door to be a Christian." Miss Fannie May Witt, who writes for the Detroit Free Press, also contributes to the fiunny Svnth. The Younger and the Elder Booth. From an early age Edwin Booth wa associated with his father in all the wanderings and strange and often sad adventures of that wayward man of ge nius, and no doubt the many sorrowful experiences of his youth deepened the gloom of his inherited temperament. Those who know him well are aware that he has great tenderness of heart, and abundant playful humor ; that his mind is one of extraordinary liveliness, and that he sympathizes keenly and cordially with the joys and sorrows of others ; yet that the whole man seems saturated with sadness, isolated from companionship, lonely, and alone. It is this temperament, combined with a sombre and melancholy aspect of coun tenance, that has helped to make him so admirable in the character of Ham let. Of his fitness for thak part his father was the first to speak, when on a night many years ago, in Sacramento, they had dressed for St. Pierre and Jaf fier, in Venice Preserved. Edwin, as Jaffier, had put on a close-fitting robe of black vetvet. "You ook like Ham let," the father said ; "why don't you play it?" The time was destined to come when Edwin Booth would be ac cepted all over America as the greatest Hamlet of the century. In the season of 18G4-G5, at the Winter Garden Thea ter, New York, he acted that part for a hundred nights in succession, accom plishing thus a feat unprecedented in theatrical annals. Since that time Henrvi Irving, in London, has acted Hamlet two hundred consecutive times in one season ; but this latter achievement, in the present day and in the capital city of the world, seems less -remarkable than Edwin Booth's exploit was, per formed in turbulent New York in the closing months of our terrible civil war. The elder Booth was a short, spare, muscular man, with a splendid chest, a symmetrical Greek head, a pale counte nance, a voice of wonderful compass and thrilling power, dark hair, and blue eyes. Edwin's resemblance to him is chiefly obvious in the shape of the head and face, the arch and twist of the heavy eyebrows, the radiant and constantly shifting light of expression which ani mates the countenance, the natural grace of carriage, and the celerity of movement. Edwin's eyes are dark brown, and seem to turn black in mo ments of excitement, and they are capa ble of conveying, with electrical effect, the most diverse meanings the solem nity of lotty thought, the tenderness of affection, the piteousness of forlorn sor row, the awful sense of spiritual sur roundings, the woful weariness of de spair, the mocking glee of wicked sar casm, the vindictive menace of sinister purpose, and the lightning glare of bale ful wrath. In range of facial express iveness his countenance is thus fully equal to what his father was, and to all that tradition tells us of the countenance of Garrick. The present writer saw the elder Booth but once, and that in a comparatively inferior part Pescara, in Shiel's ferocious trag edy of The Apostate. He was a terrible presence. He was the incarnation of smooth, specious, malignant, hellish rapacity. His exultant malice seemed to buoy him above the ground. He floated rather than walked. His glance was deadly. His clear, high, cutting, measured tone was the exasperating note of hideous cruelty. He was acting a fiend then, and making the monster not only possible, but actual. He cer tainly gave a greater impression of overwhelming power than is given by Edwin Booth, and seemed a more for midable and tremendous man. But his face was not more brilliant than that of his renowned son ; and in fact it was, if anything, somewhat less splendid in power of the eye. There is a useful book about him called The Tragedian,, written by Thomas B. Gould, who also made a noble bust of him in marble, and those who never saw him can obtain a very good idea of what sort of an actor he was by reading that book. It con veys the image of a greater actor, but not a more brilliant one, than Edwin Booth. Only one man of our time has equalled Edwin Booth in this singular splendor of countenance. That man was the great New England orator Ruf us Choate. Had Choate been jan actor upon the stage as he was before a jury with those terrible eyes of his, and that passionate Arab face, he must have towered fully to the height of the tradi tion of George Frederick Cooke. Har per's Magazine. Avoid Slander. None of us are perfect, and we have no right therefore to expect perfection in others. So if you cannot speak well of your neighbors, do not speak of them at all. A cross neighbor may be made a kind one by kind treatment. The way to be happy is to make others hap py. To do good is a luxury. If you are not wiser and be'tter at the end of the day, that day is lost. Practice kind ness, even if it be but to speak one word. Do not seem to be what you are not. Learn to control your temper and your words. Say nothing behind one's back that you would not say to his face. This habit of reticence, beside" being a kindly one, is safe. Many a bitter harvest has been reaped from thoughtless words of censure. Fashion Sprays. Watered silks are worn again. Steel appears on the straps of the low shoes. Painted French mull is a novelty for dresses. Capes made entirely of jetted tulle are stylish. Little golden cats are suspended from the bracelet. Velvet is sparingly used on the sum mer costumes. Pink and ruby shades are combined in French toilettes. Overskirts are not worn, the drapery being fastened to the skirt. Spanish lace is used for trimming parasols instead of fringe. Folded stocks cf illusions are worn with high-necked white gowns. Bonnet strings should be tied in enormous bows under the chin. Bonnets are shown, covered with cur rants, grapes, and other small fruits. Young ladies still wear . the plain round skirt and waist, with sash at the side. Some of the little bonnets have exact ly the curves of a horse-shoe over the forehead. Children wear coachman's drab frocks and they soil almost as easily as if they were white. The coral pink roses, lately introduc ed, damage any complexion but one ex ceptionally fine. "A bonnet of wild oats, lined with scarlet satin" is the description in a New York paper. Buckles will be very fashionable, worn with sashes, and they match the buttons worn on the dress. "Mouutain bunting" is used for trav el iiig costumes. It is stiff and why and comes in gray and brown. Biding skiits are cut quite short, with kmc gores, adapted to the position of the rider when she is in the saddle. Beetles in colored glass are used to fasten French neckties. Hope it will st.iy in France ; it's an ugly fasliion. Duchess, Dot, Dimple, Charmer, Flirtation, Carey, Gerster and Bern hardt are the names of some of the new bonnets. Spiders with bodies made of humming-bird feathers, and gilt legs, are used to fasten the strings on new bon nets. The Row. Rotten Row, the famous ride of Hyde Park, and the delight of fashionable Londoners, is about two hundred yards short of a mile in length, and a trifle ;ess than forty yards in breadth. It oc cupies a district apart from the maiu park ; it is entered only at its two ends ; it is crossed by no road, and during promenade hours no one is allowed to cross it on foot. The carriage entrances to Hyde Park are here abreast of the fashionable quarter of London, and are twice as far apart as those provided for Central Park. There is no carriage road adjoining the Row ; it is separated in most of its length by the Serpentine ( water) from the fashionable drive and from the more attractive rural parts of the park. No one goes near it except at the ends, unless it is to ride or see the riding. Owing to these circum stances great freedom can be allowed in its use. It is common to "gallop from end to end of it ; there is no fixed limit of speed, and the police are instructed only to check at discretion dangerous riding what is dangerous depending on the quality of the rider and horse. The men and women who show them selves upon the Row are as a rule finish ed equestrians. There are walks on each side of the ride guarded by strong railings and furnished with seats. One of these walks is nine yards wide, the other five. They are fashionable prom enades, ladies leaving their carriages for a walk much more in all European parks than with us. How to Gain Health. What is more charming in all Nature's dominion than a thoroughly healthy woman a bright-eyed, rosy, happy girl who finds keen pleasure in merely liv ing ? There is nothing charming in ill ness. An invalid wife and mother fur nishes a constant spectacle of sadness and misery to her family and friends, and a subject of unlimited expense to her husband. In such a home the great est of all blessings that could be hoped for would be the health of the mistress restored ; but too often it is the one blessing that never comes. American homes, more than any other, perhaps, in the world, have been saddened by sickly women. If this shall be so no longer, it will be a great blessing to the nation. And the remedy is simple. American men are as strong and healthy as those of other nations ; there is no good reason why American women should not be. All that is needed is proper attention to dress and exercise. Let women dress, as men do, so that their bodies shall not be squeezed and pressed together, but have free room for motion, and let them go out into the air and sunshine, as men do, aad exercise their bodies, and the race of American women will not be come extinct, but be improved, built up and beautified fit to become the moth era of a growing race. A Consilience of Titles. This is not a "Winter's Tale," for it was in midsummer when "The Two Gentlemen of Verona," by the wish of "Pericles, Prince of Tyre," set forth to visit "The Merry Wives of Windsor." Now begins a "Comedy of Errors," for Hamlet's ghost was their guide. He led them through the corridors of the past ; into ancient castles where the tragic and comic scenes of life were en acted; all of which were made familiar by Shakespeare's matchless genius. On "The Twelfth Night" of the jour ney "The Tempest" arose, and the two gentlemen of Verona being in the city of Venice, gave a traveler's homage to "Othello the Moor," from whom they received greetings to "Julius Ciesar." Wishing to bear some gift to the virtu ous Romans, they bought of the famous "Merchant of Venice" a beautiful pet asp which "Antony and Cleopatra" ap preciated highly. They met, as they journeyed from the city, "Timon of Athens," who told them that he had ar rived from Yerona-and as he passed by Capulet's residence, in the early hours of the morning, his attention was ar rested by gentle sounds, like as the coo ing of doves. He stopped to listen, and looking around beheld a noble youth in the garden, who sent sweet glances of love with words to verify them to a window from whence leaned as beauti ful a maiden as ever was created by fancy, or by the moulder of all things beautiful, and she did wink at him the tender message, just "As you Like It." Quoth the gentleman, "they were 'Ro meo and Juliet.' " As the travelers ap proached Rome, "The Passionate Pil grim" told them about the terrible do mestic tragedy of "Titus Adronicus" and then made a silly "Lover's Com plaint" on account of his "Love's Labor Lost." After tarrying in the city of Rome for a day, Hamlet's ghost led the gentleman of Verona to Denmark, and "Hamlet" did actually see his father's ghost. From Denmark they journeyed directly to London, from thence to Windsor. As they approached their destination, there seemed to be a great commotion. Six large men were beating one frail woman, who cut deeper with her tongue than the men did with their lash. They asked what meant such barbarous con duct. "It is the 'Taming of the Shrew,'" was the reply. But the bitter tongue of women testifies that the shrew still gives "Measure for Measure." The travelers now arrived at Windsor, and the merry wives had a great banquet i in their honor. Kings and princes were in attendance. "Cymbeline" being the eldest, was master of ceremonies. "King Richard III.," having killed "Henry IV.," was in a killing mood to woo the lovelv Imogen. After thev had all feasted, "Henry VIII." made a toast on "free love." "King Lear" arose, but his fool was not present, and he became confused. "King John" arose, made "Much Ado About Nothing," and sat down. "Richard II ," "Henry V." and "Henry VI." were discussing the muta bility of the kings of England, when three witches cried out to "Macbeth,' "When shall we meet again?' Then a great change came over the' scene ; all faded into mist, and as the two gentlemen of Verona disappeared, they whispered to the merry wives of Windsor, "All's Well That Ends Well." I awoke ; my Shakespeare was by my side. Then I knew I had had "A Mid summer Night's Dream." Cuba. Hotel life in Cuba is by no means what it should be. The hotels are de cidedly dirty. There is no clean hotel in Havana, and those most frequented by foreigners seem, if possible, to be the dirtiest. It is said that in visiting any place where Spanish is the language, the safe way is to go to the newest hotel. The day is begun with fruit and coffee at about seven in the morning. Breakfast, a very substantial meal, with wine and a dessert of sweetmeats, follows -at noon about eleven, and dinner from six to seven. The best cooks are Chinese. There is a great deal of dram drinking among the people. Gin is the favorite liquor, and large quantities of it are sold, but I did not see anywhere a man drunk. Smoking is as universal and constant as breathing, but I saw no ladies smoking, though no one refrains because they are present. Cigarettes are more frequently used than cigars. No apology is required for introducing them, and no one asks his visitor or companion to join him in smoking be cause he assumes that the visitor has his own tobacco in his pocket and would light his cigarette if he wished to do so. The only places where one can't smoke are the churches and the theaters. A the opera I saw a man who had begun to smoke in the imrquet compelled to quit the indulgence ; but at the same time a cloud of smoke blown from one of the private boxes back of the prosce nium excited no attention whatever. In the railroad cars everybody smokes without restraint, and a special car for the purpose would be ridiculous. Nico tine poisoning has no terror to the Cuban, The Man who Went West. It is stated that the center of popula tion moves westward at the rate of ninety feet a day, and is slowly passing across the southern portion of Ohio. It is evident, therefore, that the "gorgeous East," to which the West has hitherto looked for its literature and lucre, its manufactures and arts, its pedagogues and pills, its capital and culture, is fast losing its grip, and if it were to be sunk out of existence to-morrow, or raised out of sight in its own estimation, the West would merely pause to say tra-la-lu, and keep right on with its work. The loss of thirteen Congressmen to the East, and a gain of nineteen to the West by the recent census, shows where the crowd is rushing, and in ten years more the East will be taken under the wing of the West, and the West will see that no harm comes to it. We feel sorry for the East. It has always done as well as it knew how, and there has never been a time when it would not sell us dry goods and Yankee notions and take it out in wheat, or loan money on a farm at ten per cent. Ji its people generally cannot yet regard the West as anything but a howling wilderness, where the In dian and the wild bison roam at will, instead of a land possessing the refine ments of enlightened civilization, why then it is their misfortune and not their fault. No enmity can ever come between the two sections, for very many of the wealthy farmers of the West, who own broad and fertile acres, will never for get that their early manhood was passed amid the steep and rocky hillsides of the East, where corn was planted with a mallet and cold chisel, and, after be ing washed out by rains a couple of times, grew and flourished to the height of two and even three feet, with an ear on almost every stalk. No one who is worthy the name of a man ever forgets the scenes of his boyhood. But the cot ton factories of the East are passing to the South and Southwest, where they will be nearer the source of the raw material ; the publication of books, which nobody ever supposed could be done anywhere except in the East, has sud denly been begun in the West, and two million dollars' worth were executed with neatness and dispatch in one West ern city alone in 1880 ; Eastern illus trated papers, reflecting the culture, humor and police doings of the country, still hold their own, but their time will come ; ii. astern puis, wnicn nave drained so much money from the West and built so many palaces in the East, yet have a grip upon the affections of our people ; but their influence is weaken ing, and pad factories are springing up and manhood is being restored right here in the West by Western firms ; car factories are coming nearer to Western iron and wood every day ; our flouring mills, which already make flour enough for paste, are increasing in number and capacity, and the woods are full of saw mills; we shall need Eastern oil and coal a little longer, until a way is found to decompose water, and then we shall have no favors to ask, and the East must not recognize us when we meet on the street. "I'll Take Care of Csesar." Ex-Gov. Thomas A. Hendricks, now en route for Mexico, told a Kansas City reporter a very good story about an old friend in St. Louis. Said he : "Late one evening last year Col. Don Morrison and a party of boon companions were returning home from down-town, where they had been enjoying whist and wine. Pausing in front of his elegant residence Col. Don insisted upon the party's com ing in and taking a parting glass. "No, no, Don : we'll go home." "It's very late, and we won't keep you up." These and similar expostulations were made, but Col. Don kept on insisting. At last one of the gentlemen suggested that maybe Mrs. Morrison might object. The colonel seemed deeply offended by this. He drew himself up proudly and said scornfully, "Now you shall come in, fori intend to show you that I am Caesar in this house !" Scarcely had he uttered this proud declaration than a second-story window raised and a femi nine voice, cold and cutting, rang out on the pale air : "You are right, gentle men : go home to your wives. I'll take care of Caisar!" Of course the party went home, and Col. Don pensively retired. President Grevy, of France, has no taste for the stir of public life. He gives few receptions and only now and then a dinner. He is of simple manner, and may be always found in the morn ing by those taking the trouble to call upon him. But the visit must have some positive motive of business or friendship ; the president will not con sent to be an obliging celebrity, acces sible to those who like to boast of shak ing hands with notabilities. To those who have wondered why ar tificial currants were made both of jet and silk, the information is given that the former are to ripe and the latter un ripe fruit ; so Btates a Parisian authority. ITEMS OF INTEREST. The London Spectator says that the Greeks have always been cursed with too much cleverness. If we would make good use of our money we should patronize ably con ducted and responsible newspapers. A philosopher says that "Liberal trade is good scholarship popularized, ant7 commerce is literature on a signboard." The Chicago Inter-Ocean says that there is dirt enough in State street, in that city, to make a State as big as Rhode Island. A naturalist has discovered that mon keys may be taught " to dance. This brings the natural animal only one step nearer the society man. The San Francisco Chronicle, while giving sketches of the eminent men of that State, does itself proud by sand wiching in sketches of its eminent women. Henry Ward Beecher says he doesn't know anything about evolution, and doesn't care whether he descended from a monkey or not, provided he has de scended far enough. When the Southern Baptist Conven tion was held at Columbus, Miss., the Jewish synagogue was given up on Sun day to a Christian clergyman to preach in. Two Carolina telegraph operators quarrelled by wire, exchanged chal engers in tha same way, and met half way between Columbia and Charlotte to fight with fists. The Portuguese Government have made primary education compulsory for children between 7 and 12 years of age living within a radius of two miles from any Government school, exempt ing the very poor. A St. Louis dealer in old clothes re plenished his stock by delivering bogus telegrams to a number of wives that their husbands had been burned by nitric acid, which destroyed their cloth ing, and that fresh suits must bo sent by the bearer. The effect on some people of the pro phecy falsely ascribed to Mother Ship ton, that the .world will come to an end , in 1881, was illustrated the other day in Indiana, where the sudden appearance of a strange cloud, accompanied by a roaring wind, threw several villages into a panic. In Paris false ears are a new manufac ture for the toilet. Ladies who think they have ugly ears place these, art istic productions under luxuriant tresses of false hair, fasten them to the natural hair, false teeth, false breasts, false hips, ears, and wear them for show. False false calves, false ears what next ? Lawyer Snyder of Cincinnati took the occasion of a trial in court to say that Nannie Murray and Mary McKin ney were "as bad in character as they were in face," and when he got out doors they thrashed him soundly, but whether for the attack on their charac ter or their looks is not explained. Brother Gardner's Lime-Kiln Club. "Las' nite a naybur o' mine walked down to de shores of de mystic ribber an' crossed ober wid de endless pur ccshun," solemnly began the old man as the meeting was called to order. "He Lad money an' property an' posislmn, but he draps outer dis life like a stone tossed into de oshun. I sat down an' thought an' thought, but I could not re member dat dis man had eber won a friend by his sympathies, warmed a heart by his charity, or made any one's burden de lighter by a brotherly word. As de funeral goes past dar will be no sighs ; as de purceshun turns into de cemetery men will hardly gib it a glance. He came on airth, libed out his time, an' he passes away widout leavin' a foot print behind. He was not a cull'd man, but if he had bin I should have felt all de worse. None of you am so poo' dat you nebber hab calls to share wid some one more hungry ; none o' yon hab sich poo' speech dat you can't stop to speak a few kind words to dose in sorrow. Dar am a show for cbery human bcin' on airth to make his mark. When Uncle Bolly WTilliams died a hundred women shed tears, a hundred men had de heart ache, an' twice dat number of chiU'en looked down on de face of de dead an' turned away wid sobs in deirfroats. Who was he ? Nuffin but a poo' ole slave man. What was he worf? Nuffin but de close on his back. But he made his mark. He had kind words fur achin' hearts ; he had a willin' ban' fur de weak an' helpless ; he had soft words fnr men in passion an' strong words fur de cause of right. Ebery house had an open door fur him, an' ebery chile met him wid a heart full of trust. He sleeps up dar in Potter's Field, widout a mark on his grave, but his deeds an' his name ar' oftener spoken of dan any of de hun dreds who sleep beneaf de big monu- ments. Make friends. Make 'em by deserving friendship. Lib to enjoy life, but lib to leave behind you sunthin' bet ter dan a name fur an epitaph cut in cold marble. One sigh of regret one single tear one sorrowin' word dat yon am called from airth away, will be a grander monument dan de hands of man eber yet put up,"
The Chatham Record (Pittsboro, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
June 9, 1881, edition 1
1
Click "Submit" to request a review of this page. NCDHC staff will check .
0 / 75