Newspapers / The Chatham Record (Pittsboro, … / April 5, 1888, edition 1 / Page 1
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- tn -3? $l)c l)atl)am Uccorb. II. jV. LONDON, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION, $he Chatham Betotii RATES ADVERTISING One square, one insertion- 'JJJ One square, two insertions - -One square, one month - For larger advertisements liberal con tracts will be made. Ay u S LOLL&R PER U VOL. X. PITTSBORO', CHATHAM CO., N. C, APRIL 5, 1888. NO. 31. Strictly n Advance. fV u G The Impossible. Men cannot draw water from nn empty well, Or trace the stories tlint gossips tell, Oi tilier the sounds of a pealing b 11. M:m never ran stop the billows' ronr, t h.iin tin' winds till they blow no more, ; r d.ivo true love IVom a maiden's door. M. ii e ntiot o'ertakc a fleeting lie, l h.iiy hi wheat to a field of rye, t r :ul t k years that have long gone bf Vt. u nt'OT -: n 1-ribe old Father Time, ... :i 1 1 Ii bight t l'ape.ik that he cannot climb, , .y !! ,, Uie hand that hath done a crime M;in i Miinot a eniel word recall, lVii. i ;i thought, ho it great or small, 1 1. i is, t xtract from a drop ofg;dli v;!ii t never b.u kward turn the tide, ri.unt i he stars that are scattered wide, T liiul in a fool a trusly guide. Man cannot reap limit from worthless seed, Uely for strength on the brokeu reed, ( r gitin a heart he hath caused to bleed. Man never e.m hope true peace to win, riea.-ure wiihout and joy within, Living a thoughtless life of sin BEYOND HIS INCOME. 'Five pounds of grapes!" said old Mrs. Mildmay, in astonishment. "Are you quite sure that you understood your mistress' order, Hester? AVhite grapes are sixty rents a, pound, and surely for so small a dinner-party as this-' There's no mistake, ma'am,' said Hester, pertly. S-.rvants will soon learn the spirit of their superiors, and Hester knew that young Mrs. Mildmay was not particularly par ial to her hus band's stepmother. "1 took the order myself, and it ain't liktly that I should W mistook." "Hester is quite right," said Mrs Rufus Mildmay, who came in at that tn nnent.a handsome brunette, in a pink .a.: i mere morning-dress, trimmed with' l ands, a hr milt'taire, of black velvet rather a contrast to the neat, calico gown which her mother-in-law was ac customed to wear about her morning avocations at home. "And I do "wish mamma, you wouldn't interfere!" The old lady's serene brow flushed. "My dear," she remonstrated, "I do n t wish to meddle with your concerns; but I really fear that Rufus income" "Unfits income is his own, to spend a he pleases," interrupted the young lady. "And you seem to forgetmauima. i hat people don't live nowadays as they did when you were a girl." Mrs. Mildnriy said nothing more. It was not the first time, nor vet the .veond, that she had been given to un derstand, by Mrs. Rufus, that her in terposition in household affairs was un welcome. The stepson, whom she loved with as fond a devotion as if he had been her own child, had married a beautiful city girl, and settled in New York. So far, all was well, although Mrs. Mildmay had secretly hoped that he would love sweet Alice Acton, the lergyman's daughter at Pole Hill, and settle down on the old farm, as his father before him had done. Yet if Rufus was happy! Yes, there was the question. And sometimes Mrs. Mildmay feared that he was not, in spite of his smile3 and his assumed cheerfulness. It had been his fondest hope that his mother might be one of his household after his marriage. Mrs. Mildmay had heped so, too; but after this, her first visit, she felt that the dream was in vain. "Oil and water will not mix," she said to herself, with a sigh. "And I bebng to a past generation." As she left the store-closet, where Rosamond and her cook were holding counsel as to a proposed dinner-party, he went sl&wly and spiritlessly up to t!ie breakfast-room, where Rufus was reading the morning paper before the lire. "Rufus," she said, a little abruptly, "I think I hal better go back to the Hemlocks this week." "Mother," he remonstrated. "1 don't think that Rosamond wants Jiic h?re." itufus Mildmay reddened. "I hope, mother," he said, "she has i!"t said anything to" "It is not natural that she should need my presence." said the old lady, p-ntly. "I might have known it; now 1 am certain of it. Home is the best 1' aci for me. Rut remember one thing, far li'ifus. Do not outspcud your in line, liosamond is young and thoughtless. You yourself are inex p Ti. ncod--" "! , it's all right, mother," said the :'' ng m:in, carelessly. "Rut I did "J that on could be happy here!" Mrs. Mildmay shook her head. "1 shall see you sometimes," said she. 'if cvtr you are in trouble, Rufus "i or liosamond, either you will know where to come." so the old lady went away from the pretly bijui ()f A house in Parabole I lace, with its bay windows, its Turco aian portieres and the boxes of flowers n all the casernes ts. "Ro'Jainond."said the young husband, as he studied over tho list of weekly bills a short time subsequently, "J be lieve my mother was right. "We are outrunning our income." "Pshaw!" said Rosamond, who was sewing a frill of point lace on to the neck of a rose-colored satin reception dress; "what , has put that ridiculous idea into your head, Rufus?" "Facts and figures," answered Rufus "Just look here, Rosie." "Rut I don't want to look!" said Rosamond, impatiently turning her head away, "and I won'tso there! Of course one can't live without money, especially if one goes into society." Rufus whistled tinder his breath. "Rut, Rosamond," said he, "if a man's income is a hundred dollars a monthf and he spends two hundred, how are the accounts to balance at the year's end?" "I don't know anything about bal ances and accounts," said Rosamond, with a sweet, sportive laugh. "How do you like this dress, Rufus?" holding up the gleaming folds of the pink satin. "I shall wear it on Thtirsdav tf evening." "Do you think, Rosie," said the young man, gently, "that it is wine for us to go so much into society on our slender income?" "That arrow came from your mother's quiver, Rufus!" said Rosamond, with another laugh. "She was always preaching about your 'income.' " "And, after all," said Rufus, "what do we care for the fashionable people to whose houses we go, and whom we invite to our paities? They wouldn't one of them regret if we were to go to tile Rocky Mountains to-morrow." "I would as soon die at once as live Without society!" said Rosamond. "Do leave off lecturing me, Rufus! Society is all that makes life worth having for me." And, with a deep sigh, Rufus held his peace. That was a long, lonely winter for Mr Mildmay, senior, at The IlemlockSi - Snow set in early; the fiver fro:e over, as if it were sheeted with iron, pxeep t in the one dismal place down in the ravine, where a restless pool of iak black water boiled and bubbled, at the foot of a perpendicular mass of gray rock, under the shadow of gloomy ever greens the sunshine glittered with fro en brightness over the hills, and the old lady was often secretly sad at heart as she sat all alone in the crimson parlor, by the big tire-place, when the logs blazed in the twilight. And as the Xew Year passed, and the bitter cold of January took posses sion of the frozen world, a vague aj prehension crept into her heart. "Something is going to happen," she said. "1 am not superstitious, but there are times when the shadow of coming events stretches darkly across the heart Something is going to happen!" And one afternoon, as the amber sun. set blazed behind the ieafless trees, turning the snowy fields to masses of molten pearl, she put on her fur-lined hood and cloak. "I will go and take a walk," said she. "I shall certainly become a hypochondriac if I sit all the time by the fire and nurse my morbid fancies like this." She took a long brisk walk, down by the ruins of the old mill, through the cedar woods, across the froen swamp, and then she paused. "I will come back by the Black Pool,' she thought. "It is a wild and pictu resque spot in winter, with icicles hang ing to the tree-boughs, and weird ice effects over the face of the old gray rock." It was a dark and gloomy place, funereally shadowed by the hemlocks, which grew there to a giant size; and when Mrs. Mildmay got beneath their boughs, she started buck. Was it the illusive glimmer of the darkeningtwilighfc? or was it really a man who stood close to the edge of the Black Pool? "Rufus! Oh, Rufus, my son!" Site was barely in time to catch him in her arms and drag him back from the awful death to which he was hurl ing himself. When they reached the cedar wain scoted parlor, where the blazing logs cast a ruddy reflection on the red moreen curtains, Mrs. Mildmay looked into her stepson's face with loving eyes. "And now, Rufus," said she, "tell me all about it. The Lord has been very good to you for saving you from a terrible crime." "Mother, why did you stop me?" he said, recklessly. "I am a ruined man! I shall be dishonored in the sight of the world! Death would be preferable, a thousands times, to disgrace. "Rufus," said the old lady, tenderly, "do you remember when jou used to get into boyish scrapes at school? Do you remember how you used to confide your troubles to me? Let us forget all the years that have passed. Let us be child and mother once again." So he told her all of the reckless ex penditure on Rosamond's part his own, also, he confessed which had woven itself like a fatal web about his feet--of the unpaid bills, the clamoring tradesfolk, tho threats of public expo sure, which had driven him at last to the forgery of his employer's signature, in order to free himself from one or two of the most pressing of these de mands. "And if my investment in Erie bonds had proved a success," he said, eagerly, "I could have taken up every one of the notes before they came due. But there was a change in the market, and now now the bills will be presented next week, and my villainy will be patent to all the world! Oh, mother, mother! why did you not let me fling myself into the Black Pool?" "Rufus," said his stepmother, "what is the amount of these these forged bills?" "Ten thousand dollars," he answered, staring gloomily into the fire. "Exactly the amount of the Govern ment bonds which your father left me," said Mrs. Mildmay. "They w ould have been yours at my death. They are yours now, Rufus." "Mother, you don't mean " "Take them," said Mrs. Mildmay, tenderly pressing her lips to his fore head. "Go to Xew York the first thing to-morrow morning and wipe this stain from your life as you would wipe a few blurred figures from a slate. And then begin the record of existence anew." And up in the little room which he had occi pied as a child, Rufus Mild may slept the first peaceftd slumbers which had descended upon his weary eyelids for many and many a night. In the midnight train from Xew York came Rosamond Mildmay to The Hemlocks With a pale terrified face and haggard eyes. "Ohj mother, mother!" she sobbed; "where is he my husband ? He has left hie, and the letter on the dressing table declared that he would never re turn alive! Oh, mother, it is my fault! I have ruined him! Help me, comfort me, tell me what I shall do!" Mrs. Mildmay took Iter daughter-in- law's hand, and led her softly to the little room where her husband lay sweetly sleeping. "Hush!" said the old lady; "do not wake him. He is worn out, both in mind and body. Only be thankfuj that God has given him back to you, almost from the grave." And as the two women sat together by the blazing logs in the crimson par i lor, Mrs. Mildmay told Rosamond the whole story of the meeting at the Black Pool. I "Mother," said Rosami nd, with a quivering lip, "it is my doing. You i warned me of this long ago. Oh, why ' did I give no heed to your words? 1 ! de-erve it all!' ! "You will do better for the future, my dear," said the old lady, kindly. "Only be brave and steadfast." So the young people went back tc Xew York and commenced the world anew, withdrawing from the maelstrom of "society," and living within them selves. Mr?. Mildmay, senior, came with them, and Rosamond is learning the art of housekeeping under her di rection. "Mamma is an angel!" says the yOung wife, enthusiastically. "And if I could only be just like hex, I should have no higher ambition. The Spirit of Discontent. The other day we stood by a coopet who was playing a merry tune with his adze round a cask. "Ah!" said he, "mine is a hard lot driving a hoop." "Heigho!" sighed the blacksmith on a hot summer day, as he wiped the perspiration from his brow, while the red iron glowed on the anvil; "this is life with a vengeance, melting and fry. ing one's self over a hot fire." "O! that I was a carpenter," ejacu lated the shoemaker, as he bent over his lap-stone. "Here I am, day afte day, wearing my soul away, making Soles for others cooped up in this little seven-by-nine room. Hi-ho-hum!" "I'm sick of this out-door work!" ex" claimed the bricklayer "broiling under the sweltering sun or exposed to the inclemency of the weather. "I wish I was a tailor." "This is too bad," petulantly cried the tailor "to be compelled to sit perched up here plying the needle aU the time. Would that mine were a more active life." "Last day of grace banks won't dis count customers won't pay what shall I do?" grumbles the merchant "I had rather be a truck, a dog, or any thing else." "Happy fellows?" groans the law yer, as he scratches his head over some dry, musty records "happy fellows! I had rather hammer stones all day than puzzle my head on these tedious, vexa tious questions." CHILDREN'S COLUMN. "In Mother' Place." If you want to go and see granny, mother dear, you start off by the first train to-morrow morning," said Ted; "I have a holiday, and I'll stay at home and take care of baby and the house." "Could you manage?" asked his mother, doubtfully. "Manage? Yes, splendidly; why there's nothing to do!" Ted's mother smiled, but she accept ed her boy's kind offer, and started off early the foRowingmoraing. - "Xow I'm in mother's place," said Ted to himself, "I shall soon get aU the work; "why, there's baby awake already!" t "Yes; master baby was awake and insisted upon being taken up and dress ed at once. AVhen that performance was over he screamed with indigna tibn because his breakfast was not ready for him. "Ah, I remember," said Ted, "mother . told me she always had his bread and milk waiting for him; it seems tome there's a lot of things to remember about a house and a baby.' A great number of things poor Ted found to attend to; the bods to make; the rooms to sweep and dust; the lire to attend to; the meals meals to prepare and master baby to amuse. "It's not so easy as I thought, being in mother's place," he said to himself that night, as he sat and listened for bis mother's welcome footstep. "Ah, there conies mother!" he added, "and very glad I am to see her." tuke. "Stop crying, Johnny,' said Fanny Dare, "and I'll tell you about a dog I know who won't eat a bit of cake if his master says it isn't paid for' "O, what a funny dog!" said Johnny stopping right off. "One day," continued Fanny, "I gave him a bit of cake. He opened his mouth and was just going to take a bite, when his master said, 'Duke, that isn't paid for.' Duke dropped the cake instantly and turned away. He seem ed to say, 'Xobody shall persuade me to eat anything that isn't paid for.' I asked his master to go out of the room and then I tried to coax Duke. I held the cake to his nose. But he could not be coaxed. "AVhen his master crma back, he broke the cake into seven bits. Then as he put them on the floor, he said, 'Duke, this piece is paid for, this piece is not paid for,' till heliad scattered aU the cake on the floor. " 'Xow,' he said, 'you can eat all the pieces that are paid for.' And Duke just picked out the three pieces his master said were paid for, and he wouldn't touch the others. "Afterward he gave Duke three of the four pieces to eat. Then he took the fourth in his hand and said, 'Duke, this is the last piece. It is paid for it. You may take it if you want it. But I have not had any, and I like cake as well as you do.' , "Duke eyed the dainty morsel. He smelt it, then slowly turned his head away as if to say, 'You may have it dear master.' "Then his master ate a bit and said, Here, old fellow, I've had enough; you eat the rest' " Little Men and Women. Hie Wonderfnl Secret. Once on a time there was a king who had a little boy whom he loved very much. S j hs too'c a great deal of pains to make him happy. He gave him beautiful rooms to live in, and pictures and toys and books without number He gave him a grace ful, gentle pony, that he might rid when he pleased, and a row-boat on a lovely lake, and servants to wait upon him wherever he went He also pro vided teachers who Were to give him the knowledge of things that would make him good and great. But for all this the young prince was not happy. He wore'a frown wherever he went, and was always wishing for something that he did not have. At length, one day a magician came to the court .He saw the scowl on the boy's face, and he said to the king: "I can make your son happy, and turn his frowns into smiles. But you must pay me a great price for telling him the secret." "All right," said ; the king, "what ever you ask I wiU gi 7e." So the price was agreed upon and paid, and then the magician took the boy into a private room. He wrote something with a white substance up on a piece of white paper. Next he gave the boy a candle, and told him to light it and hold it under the paper, and then see what he could read. Then he went away. ' c The boy did as he had been told; and the whi e letters on the paper turned into a be mtif ul blue. They formed these words: "Do a kindness to some one every day." The prince made use of the secret, and he became the happiest man in the realm. HOUSEHOLD SUPERSTITIONS. Some of the Queer Fancies Entertained by Uood People. A favorite mpcrstition, in many parts of this country, says the St. Louis GlobeDemocrat, is the one concerning new houses; that it is unlucky to build a new house, since the coffin of the builder will be the first one carried out at the door. Hence, in many parts of the Southern states additions will be made to the old house as long as prac ticable rather than resort to building an entirely new structure. The super stition, perhaps.arose from the fact that so many retired merchants erect fine houses only to die in them as soon as they are finished. This is often the case, but no supernatural reason is needed to account for the occurrence. The merchant has up to that time been engaged in active pursuits, has never been idle in his life, and as long as his new house is building he has occupa tion, even though he may have retired from business. But when the house is done he has nothing to do and noth ing to think of but his ailments and infirmities, consequently thinks of them a great deal, soon loses his cour age and dies. Spilling the salt on the table is a par ticularly bad omen, and, contrary to most of these superstitions, has a deli nite reason for its own existence. Salt is the emblem of hospitality, of friend ship, of good-fellowship, and when salt is spilled on the table the friendship is supposed to be in danger of being broken. Lik3 other superstitious fancies asuflicient number of instances of the verification of the ill-omen have been found and recorded to inspir popular relief in the reliability of the sign, and it is therefore respected even more than most others of its kind. So far as number is concerned, the most numerous class of superstitions are composed of those Which cluster round the family candles. The origin of these probably dates far back in antiquity, when the world was full of superstitious fancies about light in general and candle light in particu lar. AVhen we come down to the early days of the Christian church however, we find that not a few of the ordinances of religion wero accom panied by ceremonies, in which lighted candles played an important part. Candles were lighted at birth to keep off evil spirits, at marriage to prevent the evil eye from affecting th? happy pair, and at death to drive away the demons who were thought to be always on the lookout for the soul of the dy ing man. Xaturally then, as candles played so important a part in the cere monies of religion, men became accus tomed to regard them with something of a superstitious eye, and to look to them for signs and wonders which were not to be elsewhere found. So a peculiar appearance in the candle, for Which no reason could be given, Was always regarded as indicative of some remarkable event ab uit to happen. A collection of tallow round the wick, is still known as a winding-sheet, and is believed to foretell the death of one of the family, while a bright spark is a sign of the future reception of a letter by the person opposite whom the spark is situated, arxd the waving of tiie flame without any apparent cause is supposed to demonstrate the presence of a spirit in the room. In addition to these fanci ful notions there are some others which are founded on natural facts too well known to admit of dispute, such as the candle to light readily, which indicates a state of atmosphere favorable to a coming storm. In Ireland, where household super stitions, and indeed superstitions of almost every other kind, grow as if by magic, the house leek is a lucky plant, which, if planted in the thatch, wiU preserve the inmates from all dangers brought about by unfriendly fairies, while the four-leaved clover is considered certain to give its possessor success in love, and is consequently much sought after on this account. The Esquimaux. In a lecture upon the Esquimaux de- j livered in London.Dr. Rae expressed the J opinion that this people was originally an Asiatic race, who crossed from Siberia by Behring's straits. From Labrador ! to Alaska they speak but one language with slight dialectical variations, i They are physically strong, have great ' affection for their children, and are in. telligent and faithful The tallest ; male measured by Dr. Simpson, near ; Behring's straits, was five feet ten and one-half inches, and the shortest was ' five feet one inch; the heaviest weigh ed 195 pounds, and the lightest 125 1 pounds. An Esquimaux often eats as ' much as eight pounds of seal or twelve I pounds of fish at a meal The clothing of the people is made almost entirely , of reindeer skins, and their dwellings, usually snug and comfortable, consist ' of stone and mud kraals, wooden hut? . and snow houses, according tolocaUty. THE FEAST OF HUSSEIN. Horrible Scenes at a Blohammedau lte llglous Ceremony. A Constantinople letter to the San Francisco Chronicle describes iu graph ic language the horrible scenes wit nessed by the writer at a religious cer emony. Says the correspondent: "There was the sharp stroke of a bell tand the whole band fell on their knees, and bending touched their foreheads three times to the ground. The crowd also bowed their heads. Then the priest3 in front, rising, commenced a low, mo notonous chant, accompanied by a nod. ding motion of the head. One after another the following files took up the strain and the motion, and the whole body began slowly to advance, keeping perfect time to the music of the chanting. The chant had sunk to a harsh, guttural whisper, and the crowd, which had been gathering al most as much excitement as the aco lytes, now began to take a hand in the proceedings. Everywhere in the great court heads and bodies were swaying and bending, and fresh voices were intoning the chant, "al-lah! al-lahP throwing the emphasis strongly on the second syllable of the word. As the priest commenced the story of Hussein's-prophecy and death the pro cession suddenly opened its ranksdeav ing spaces of several feet between the files. At the same time all the young er priests rolled up the sleeves of their tunics above the elbow on their right arm. The chant changed to "allah, allah, God and the prophet!" and the rate of speed was quickened. The crowd pressel heavier and closer against the ropes. The faces of the devotees contorted almost convulsed. There was a shout from the priest, fol lowed by sudden silence, during which time every man raised his sword above his head. Another shout, and with the resumntion of the chant and a perfect roar from the crowd,the swords came down, every man striking him self with the sharp edge across the head or forehead, making wounds from which the blood flowed freely. The s words Were immediately raised and again came down as before. At first everythinsr was methodical, and the" cutting was done together. But, as the acolytes caught the crazinens of the spectators, aU discipline ceased, and each man slashed and cut himself as he saw lit. In many cases the wounds crossed and re-crossed each other till the whole head was a mere lacework of cuts. It was a horrible and sickening sight. At one point at the first blow struck by ono of the dervishes the blood spurted from the wound and struck one of the soldiers at the ropes direct ly in the face. He fell as if he had been hit by a bullet. The shock sick ened him and he had fainted. Such an exhibition could not last long. The limit to human endurance even where ftrengthened by religious fanaticism is very narrow. Before the procession ha 1 gone the length of the square many of the devotees were reeling and stag gering like drunken men. Their faces were ghastly pale, and their long white cloaks were streaked and stained with blood. Then a man stumbled and fell forward and was carried away by the attendants. The strokes of the swords grew feebler and the chanting sunk to a husky whisper. Slower and slower they went, and new men were reeliner anddronntnsrat every step. The head of the column reached the steps and turning up them disappeared within the building. But of the actu al devotees not half had the strength to go by themselves. The crowd be gan to disperse before the last victim had been carried away. The servants J commenced to extinguish the lights on j the altar, the great court graduaUy emptied itself of people, and the feast of Hussein was over. Straw for Fuel. "Yes, I've lived out AVest ten years," said a traveler, who was bearded like a forty-niner, "I mean on the perairies of Xewbraska. Great country, too." . "AVhat did the folks do for fuel?" terthe Rooshuns, ths Rooshuh Men nonites, you know, in the fuel busi ness. They are right smart and in genious in some things, and this is the way they get over the fuel dilliculty: "They build their houses of four rooms, a'l cornering together in the center. Right there they put up a great brick oven, with thick walls. From the furnace door back to the backyard is a passageway. Every morning, noon and night they lug a jag of straw in from the stack and burn it in the furnace. The thick brick walls get red hot and stay so for hours, warming every room m the house. Even in the coldest weather three fires a day in the furnace wUl keen the house warm. For the cook- ing stoves we burn cornstalks to get meal3 with, and thus our farms raise x- tr fuel as we go along. Pretty good j scheme, ain't it? Sunken Gold. In dim gi.cn depths rot ingot-laden ships, "While fold doubloons that from the drowned hodfell ' Lie nefled in the ocean-flower's bell With Lefe's gemmed rings once kL-scd by nor dd lips. And rotund some wropght-gold cup the sea. grass whips, And hides lost pearls, near pearls still in their shell, Where sen-weed forests fill each ocean dell, And seek dim sunlight with their countless tips. So lie the wasted gifts, the long-lost hopes, Beneath the now hushed surface of myself, n lonelier depths than where the diver gropes. They lie deep, deep ; but I lit times behold In doubtful glimpses, on some reefy shelf, The gleam of irrecoverable cold. Lee Hamilton. HUMOROUS. Roliing stock Cattle trains pitched down an embankment. "I fear no man!" he said. And about that time his wife came along and led him off by the ear. AVhen' you see a counterfeit coin on the sidewalk, pick it up. You are liable to arrest if you try to pass it "Mother, may I go out to pop?" "Yes, my darling daughter; If you fail this year you must shut up fhep, You've kept longer than you ortor." An exchange speaks of "the leading band of the country." It is a brass band, and it may be first-class; but the hat-band is generally at the head. "Yes," said the boy, "I might just as well be at the head of my class as not. But I don't mind being at the foot, and the other boys do, so I sacrifice myself." "Your father is entirely bald now, isn't he?" said a man to a son of a mil lionaire. "Yes," replied the youth, fiadly, "I'm the only heir he has left." Mrs. Homespun, who has a terrible time every morning to get her young brood out of their beds, says sh9 cannot Understand why children are called the rising generation. There is luck in being the first baby. In England, if of the male sex, it be comes the heir apparent, while in free America it usually escapes more spank ings than the second one. "There is a single sentence in the English foreign enlistment act which contains 600 words. A longer sentence was that of a ?7ew York judge the other day. It contained twenty years. "Is your wife acquainted with the dead languages?" asked the professor of a Newman man. "Maybe she is," was the reply, "but ths language she uses is entirely too warm to have been dead very long." "Do you paint yet ?'' asked an old friend of a feminine artist whom she had not seen before for many years. "Yes," was the answer. "I stiU paint. I paint the children red and I put it on with my sd pper." AVhen a small boy appears in new clothes he is afraid to meet his com panions for fear of being ridiculed. But when a girl steps out in new gar ments she makes it a point to go where her acquaintances may see and envy her. A young lady recently received a note from a young man of her acquain tance, soliciting her company to church, and as he h:i I never offered to take,her anywhere else she accepted his kind offer and closed the note with the solemn declaration that "salvation is free." First Sight of the Caspian Sea. One of the most singular mental ef fects I noticed on myself was that pro duced whenever I walked on the quay, and saw the large fleet rocking in the port Shelley's Alastor had from early youth haunted my memory, and given me the impression that the Caspian was a weird, half-ideal sea, with shores ten anted by the ghosts of dead empires! with a coast which was a reedy morass trodden only by the bittern and crane; with waters gray with the haze of per petual twilight, a vast, mysterious soP itude. Such in part it is on the eastern shore, but at Baku the Caspian conveys no such idea. Square-rigged ships ride at anchor by scores; the port is busy with wherries and sail-boats dart ing hither and thither, and sharp, heavily-sparred steamers of five hun dred to one thousand tons are constant ly entering and leaving the docks. The only peculiarity that distinguishes these ships from those of other seas is the rig, which carried me back to my boyhood. Two-top-sail schooners with very rakish masts abounded.thoroughly piratical, and altogether like vessels common elsewhere thirty-five years ago, but not longer in use except on the Caspian. Brigantines, with a small topsail, and other obsolete rigs were to be seen on this sea which has fash ions of its own; which has no relations with any other sea; which is neither fresh nor salt, . and also enjoys the freak of lying over one hundred feet . below the level of the ocean. -3Ian hattan, ml -1 ''4-'
The Chatham Record (Pittsboro, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
April 5, 1888, edition 1
1
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