(Up Jtobtttg
VOLUME IV.
THE "REPORTER
PUBLISHED WEEKLY UY
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.BUSINESS CARDS.
J«nn D. lIAMMonD. llenY A. AKTHOSY
D HAMMOND & CO.
Saddle, Harness, Trunk, and
Collar Manufacturers,
Wholesale and Retail,
Ml West Baltimore Street, (Opposite the
Jsut aw House",)
BALTIMORE.
E. ]£. BEST, ot N. 0.,
with
HENRY SONNEBOEN & CO.,
Wholesale Clothiers.
297 W. Baltimore street, cortier of
Liberty,
• BALTIMORE.
H. Sonneborn, B. Blimline.
Nov. 1-Om.
J. F. Carlin, !>• C. Fulton
J. F. Bradenbaugh,
CARLIN & FULTON,
Importers of
Hardware, Cutlery, Guns, &c.,
NO. -I> South Howard street,
BALTIMORE.
Special attention given to orders.
Nov. L-(>m.
WIN GO ELLEIT & CRUMP.
Dealers in
Boots, Shoes, Trunks &c.,
1308 MAIN STREhT
RICHMOND VA.
North Carolina trade a speciality
as low as any House
NORTH cr South.
June 10 -y.
J.E GILMEtf.
Wholesale and Retail Dealers in
General Merchandise, Dry
Goods, Notions Groceries, &c
Boots and Shoes a speciality. .
Winston N* C.
July 15th 1875, 1-y.
W. Wilton, Jr. F. Bums, Jr. F. 11. Burns
B- W. HILL, •
' , ' WITH
\ WILSON, BURNS & CO.
J Wholesale Grocers and
Commission Merchants,
30 ». Howard Street, Cor. of Lombard,
BALTIMORE.
We keep constantly on hand a large and
well aborted stock of GROCERIES, suitable for
the Southern and Western trade. We solicit
consignments of CotrnTßY PRODUCE, such as
Cotton, Feathers, Ginseng, Beeswax, Wool,
Dried Fruit, Fvrs, Skins, &c. Our facilities
for doing Business are sijch as to warrant
quick sales and prompt returns. All orders
tirill have our prompt attention. .
WM. S. EOBEETSON,
I . -WITH
WATKINS & COTTEELL,
MPORTERS AND JO3BERS OF
Hardware, Cutlery, &c.
$ ADDER Y GOODS, Bolting Cloth
Gum Packing and Belting,
1807 MAIN STREET,
'Af-V RICHMOND. VA
Scm'l A. S. Kyle, Sam'l P. Nelrns,
Lamar Eollyday, IT. L. Duvall.
Wm.S. RAMSEY, North Carolina.
Dinsmore & Kyle,
WMOLESADE
Grocers and Commission
Merchants,
NO, 156E* t Pratt Street,
BADTIMORE, MD.
May Ist 1875 12-rn.
Devoted to the Development of the Social and\ Material Interests >T this Section.
DANBURY, N. C, THURSDAY^EB RUAHY 3,1876.
SEW YEAR COUNSELS.
BY 11. BO!F*B, D. D.
Do not dream away thy lifetime;
'Twas not given thee to dr n am j
'Tis a fraguiert of th' eternal
Which thou must, thou must redeem.
Every hour is more than golden,
Every moment is a gem ;
Treasure up these hours and moments,
There are princely pearls in them.
Be not selfish ; earth's great sickness
Needeth self-denying men,
To go forth among the dying, *
And to soothe the beds of pain.
Doff |)un»io t du»
Drop the garland, seize the weapon,
Make thee haste to take the field.
Lie not down among the roses,
Carry high thy cross and sword ;
What! a Sybarite disciple
Of a self-denying Lord!
Be not weary ; for the warfare
Hard and fierce, will soon be o'er;
And the rest will be unchanging
On the green, unfadin j shore.
Marah Anderson's
Work
er " FRIO.»
CHAPTER 11.
"Marah, child," said Mrs. Fentris,
the lady at whoso house she was stay
ing, "You must not give way so to
your grief; such sorrow is not for chil
dren. It will make you prematurely
old and bitter. Take up your lessons
with my children ; their teacher, I am
sure, will tako pleasure in having you
with them. It will do more, Marah,
to bring your mind to its wonted tone
again than anything else."
"Thank you, Mrs. lentrie; but I
could not study LOW I could not ap
ply myself—can give nothing attention
save my dead mother's memory, and
the rescue of my poor, innocent fath
er."
"Marah, I know it is natural for
you to hope that your father is inno
cent—we ft ould all bo glad to know
him so ; but when the proof is so con
vincing, how can you have any reason
upon which to buiid your disbelief of
your father's guiit ?",
"Something, Mrs. Fentris, a power
stronger than myself, tells me that he
did not kill my mother ; and hence
forth I shall have but one object in
view. My life's work shall be to solve
the mystery that was so fearfully and
fatefully enacted that night at Ander
son Hall; and I will one day know it
as it is, Mrs. Fentris. Yet that can
not save my father- —he must die,"
and the young girl bowed" her face in
her hands, with a 6igh of poignant
buffering.
Mrs. Fentris left the room. She was
a kind-hearted woman, and the child's
grief touched her, all the more be
cause she could utter no eonsolation to
her; for she felt that no words of hers
could bring relief to the aching and
and wounded heart, that time alone
must heal.
For a long time Marah sat as she
had loft her. A sadder picture could
not have been found thtin the little,
drooping figure, in its hopeless, hum
ble air. So thought Doctor Fentris
as he entered, and roused her from
her painful thoughts.
"Come, little one," said the Dgctor,
as he laid his band kindly on her
bowed head, "I have a note here from
papa; perhaps it may have some good
news for you. I saw him a few mo
ments this evening, tynd he seemed to
be more cheerful." .
He handed her a small sealed note.
She took it eagerly, and the Doctor
watched her as she read, and noted
the sudden palid hue that spread over
her face. Then it slowly passed, and
a look of half relief, half fear, crept
into the dark eyes, and she asked,
with a slight tremor of the voice:
"When did papa give you this note,
Doctor Fentris ?"
"As I came home. I stopped just
behind the jail for a fow moments, op-
posite your father's cell, vffee was at
the window, and askeJjWf I would
bring you a note. Of wfarse I told
him yes, and then he dropped it to me,
I hope there is nothing the| matter ?"
"Oh, no; papa just wanfli me to
bring him some b°°ks and to
while the long hours away."
And she folded the note, put it in
her pocket, and loft him. # If the Doc
tor had other though#? n regard to
the matter ho wisely kf-t gthem
himself. ci^r "
\TVnlti~KturfflPtfte - "hS'low*
she went straight to the School-room,
knowing she would find tho children
there. Doctor Fentris' family con
sisted of his wife, three children, and
their governess, Miss Young. Maud,
his eldest, was just seventeen. She
was tall for her age, and was as dig
nified as her stately old grandmother.
She had left tho school-room, and was
looked upon by her little sister as .the
quintessence of perfection. Maston
was next—a manly boy of fourteen,
with all the pride of his sister Maud,
but the generous heart of his father
and mother, to whom he ever paid due
reverence and obedience. His health
was not good, and therefore he was
kept at home, and only devoted two
hours each day to his books. Maggie
was the youngest, and was a perfect
! ray of sunshine in the house, petted
and spoiled by all. No one could re
sist tho sweet, winning ways of the
child, whose disposition was gentle
ness itself, and so she became almost
an idol to the whole family.
On each of the children the moth
erless Marah made a different impres
sion Maud shrank from the chdd,
as it she had been the guilty one.
With a false sense of hotft£,%hewottKt
have been ashamed to have been seen
by her acquaintances with the child ;
and her patronizing air stung Marah
to the quick.
Maggie stood somewhat in awe of
the quiet, black-robed little orphan ;
but sometimes her pity overcame her
shyness, and she strove to draw her
from her sorrow, tehing her of won
derful stories she had read in her
books, of fairies, etc. And then when
she saw that all had not power to chase
the gloom away, she would throw her
arms around her, in her wild, impul
sive way, and te 1 her how sorry she
was and how sho pitied her.
Maston was, perhaps, the kindest of
all. He did not ask her innumerable
questions, until she grew sick of all
the horrid details. But by silent sym
pathy and constant kindness and
thoughtfulness, made her forget, aa
far as possible, her present surround
ings.
When Marah reached the school
room she found Maston and Maggie
there. They both looked up with a
smile when she entered, and Maston
drew a chair up near the table, at
which his sister sat leaves
of a new book,
"No, thank you," she said, refusing
the proffered chair, "I came for you,
Maston; I want to hear you play
'Heart's Trials,' please."
Maston seemed surprised, but an
swered readily :
''Certainly, with pleasure. Maggie,
will you come and help me QT
do you prefer your book ?"
"My book; but I will come after
awhile, maybe, when I finish looking
at all the pretty pictures."
They went to the music- room, and
as Maston turned on the gas to a
brighter glow, he could but notice the
eager, troubled look oh the now flush
ed face of Marah. «
He seated himself at the piano, ran
his fingers over the keys, and sang in
a low, clear voice the song she wished
to hear.
She stood by in silence, apparently
listening intently to the song, yet in
reality hardly a single note was heard.
She gave a Btart of surprise when the
song fended, qnd Maston said : "It is
almost ibo sad ; there are real tears in
everj verse.'V
"Yes ; but such songs suit me best
just no>wr Maston, I did not have you
to cot»e here just to sing that little
song; I wanted to.see you on busi
ness, and it is better that it should be
told now, where no one will hear."
"Why, what is it, Marah ? I cau't
imagine."
"Promise, first, not to breathe it (to
tt'lrving "• 4
"Well, I won't "
"Swear it, please, Maston."
"Well, if I must, I must; I swear
I won't breathe it to mortal, living or
dead !"
The child bent her head until her
lips almost touched the. boy's ear, and
whispered :
"I want you to got me a small file,
a saw, and a larg-sized chisel. Old
Uncle Tonie has them all in his shop.
The window can be opened from the
outside, easy enough. You can get
them, if you will, this eveuing—will
you ?".
She waited in breathless eagerness
ior his reply. The boy turned around
aud gazed at her steadily for a few
moments. A denial trembled on his
lips, but the tears stood in tho beauti
ful eyes, looking so pleadingly down
into his own, that he answered, against
his better judgment:
"You shall have them, Marah ! I
will get them, if possible, when I
loave the supper table to-night; but
be careful, or they will lead to sorrow
and discovery."
She thanked him with a sweet, sad
smile, and hearing Miss Young com
iug-toward# the ioom thay oc«rttpi«nl,-
said, "Let me sing for you, now."
She had never touched the piano
since she came to their house. Mas
ton had heard his father and others
speak of her voice as being something
truly wonderful in a child. But he
could not help giving a long, low whis
tle of boyish surprise and delight, as
she began the sweetest song he thought
he had ever heard in all hia life. And
Miss Young was of the same opinion.
The purity and sweetness of the tones
caused her to pause in astonishment
and listen.' The voice, filling the
whole room, floated even to Maggie's
ear, and she came dancing down the
hall to see who it was that was wak
ing such beautiful notes in the old
music-room.
She clapped her hands in glee when
she saw that the player was the quiet
Marah, and throwing her arms around
her, came near smothering her with
kisses.
"Oh ! I shall make papa keep you
forever, just to sing for me," said she >
as Marah gently withdrew the cling
ing arms.
"If. there is a repetition of your ca
resses, Miss Maggie, she will not be
able to sing for any of us long,''
laughed Maston.
"Oh, yes she will; I'll bo sure to
give her breathing time."
"Who taught you music ?" askod
Miss Young, as she laid her hands on
the darluiurls, in approbation.
"Mama," she answered in a low
voice, and the governess saw that she
had unwittingly called up unpleasant
reflections.
Just then the tea bell sounded, and
they all passed down in silence to the
dining-room, where Doctor Fentris,
his wife and Maud had already gath
ered. Marali ate but little, so did
Maston, and excusing himself, he arose
and left the room.
Hall an hour after, as she sat in
het own room all alone, for Maggie
had not come up, there was a hurried
knock at the door. She knew by in
stinct that it was Maston; so she
noiselessly opened it, and he handed
her the, articles he had promised. She
NUMBER 51
! thankScl him, and with a sigh of re
lief, dropped them in her trunk.
[ct Ki'WCKD KEXT WKKK ]
-
I Have a Better Light than .
That.
j "lake-that light away; I have A
better light than that to die by," said
a dying boy to the priest who had been
sent for to administer the rites of tho •
Romish church preparatory to death.
Thiit noble boy lived in our city. His
parents are Catholics; but for some
iiviofis u flie death bf
son they permitted him to attend a
Protestant. Sunday school. Here ho
heard of Jesus as the Saviour of the
world. No one knows how he felt in
regard to his soul's welfare until he
was taken sick. It was not long, how
ever, before he told his parents and
all who visited his room, that he loved
Christ and tnat Christ was present with
him. Wo went to see him a few hours
before he died. We have seldom wit
nessed a more impressive scene, or on©
so suggestive of lessons of instruction.
All agreed that the boy, although not
! over twelve years of age, gave satis
factory evidence of conversion and tho
hope of eternal life.
As we have said, his parents are
Catholics and the priest must be sent
for before the child died. The priest
was soon at the bedside of the dying
boy and commenced to prepare or
anoint the child for doath. All went
on without interrupticn, until the
light was brought into the room.
"Take that light away ; I have a bet
ter fight than that to die by." "What
do you mean ?" said the priest. "I
mean that Jesus is with me; He is
all the light I need." "Where did
you learn of" Josua P" inqtfired the
priest. To which the boy replied: "I
used to go to a Protestant Sunday
school, and there I beard about Jesus,
and he is my light."
Christ ought to be spoken of in
terms of the highest commendation
and praise, for He is a light that shU
neth away the darkness of the grave
and lights up the pathway of the
righteous from this to the better land.
—[Visitor. '
A Startling Fact.
A oasu&l remark in a Raleigh paper
catches our eye. It is that Col. S. D.
Pool, Superintendent of Public In
struction, says "there are two hundred
and thirty thousand white children in
North Carolina, and only fifteen thou
sand cf these are attending the sub*
scription schools. And outside the
school centres in the State there is not
an average of a hundred children to
every county going to school." Well
may the amazed reporter exclaim:
"Think of that! Shall old North
Carolina twenty years from to-day be
peopled with numbskulls ? We all
are to blame. Let us take hold and
do better."
Indeed we must do better than that.
Rouse up, North Carolinians, all!
Send your children to school as long
as you have a crust of bread and a
whole garment to feed and clothe
them with. Give your children cloth
ing for the mind, which stands the
wear and tear of the wasting years.—
[Wilmington Star.
Thus pointedly does the Washing
ton City Capital express the truth.
Commenting on Blaine's oourse in the
amnesty debate, it says: "It has ta
ken twice as long to pardon as it did
to defeat the people of the South, and
they who refuse to forgive them now
refused tc fight them then; and the
wounds which were made by the swords
of our soldiers are being irritated by
the tongues of out politicians."
We are too apt to mistake the eoho
ings of our own vanity for the admira
tion and applauso of the world. t