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North Carolina Newspapers

The Danbury reporter. (Danbury, N.C.) 189?-current, March 16, 1876, Image 1

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Shi SHirri Hcportcr, VOLUME V. THg REPORTER *3*USHED WKEKLY Br jBfPER & SONS, 1 PROPRIETORS, Sates of - Subscription : i •*■ Ykak, payable ' Bix MojtTHB, " " .76 five copies one year, 4.00 Baa copies to one post-office, 7.60 Any person who wends us |7.50 for a Clnb t« n copies (all sent at one time lo one ad- Are-a) frill be entitled to a copy free. Bates of Advertising: •ae Square (ten lines or less) 1 time, fI.OO tor each additional insertion, .50 Oae quarq three months, 4.00 . • " w* m/jutliP. ti.Ofl. ' '1 «* *»!>.. \v: ' ~in"Wt #a* .ourtb flf a column lm SB.OO 2m .$ll.OO column lm 12.00 2m 17.50 8m 20.00 CV otracts for longer time «r move space can tirade in proportion to the above rates. ■ Jrtnsient advertisers will bo expected to nmii accor'tKug to these rates at the time they wad their favors. £p.eial notices will be charged 50 per cent ihJgL-v than above rates. • Bn Inesa Cards will be inserted at Ten Dol are per annum. 4 'business CARDS. Jean 1). Uaxuoiid. JleiiY A. Axtho»y JOHN D HAMMOND & CO. Saddle, Harness, Trunk, 'and Collar Manufacturers, Wholesale and Retail, Ml West BaltirAortf Street, (Opposite the JioXaw House",) BALTIMORE. ' JL E. Best, of N. C., with HENRY SONNEBORN & CO., Wholesale Clothiers, ft 7 W. Baltimore street, corner of Liberty, BALTIMORE. H. Sonneborn, / B, Blituline. Kov. l-ten. j, f. Carlin, D. C. Fultou J. F. Bradenbnugh, OARLIN & FULTON, Importers of Jfordvrare, Cutlery, Guns, &c., • * >Ko. 21) TSottth Howard street, BALTIMORE, fpocial attention given to orders, X«v. l-6m. WLTFGO ELLETT & CRUMP. Dealers in lotts, Shoes, Trunks &c., • I*oß MAIN .STREET Richmond Va. North Carolina trade a speciality price alguaran toed as low as any House North or Seuth. June 10 -y. J, E GILMEtf . 7 WUUtale and Retail Dealert in General merchandise, Dry •••do, Notions Groceries, &c Boots and Shoes a speciality. Winston N* C. J.l? l*th 1875, 1-y. W. Jr. r. Rums, Jr. F. 11. Rum - B- W. HILL, WITH WILSOK, BURNS k CO. WtolMale Grocers and Commission Merchants, " ife B. levari Street, Cor. ef Lombard, '• BALTIMORE. We keep eoustantly on hand a large and wall MeervA stock of Gbocbkiks, suitable for tke So*tL«ni and Western trade. We solicit fOilpinntr of Country Prodccb, such as t Mm, ftcih+rs, Ginseng, Bets wax, Wool, l>ri«i Fr*ii, Ti*rs, Skins, Ax. Our facilities lot d#lM Business are awoh as to warrant t rtekiabe end prompt returns. All orders i wiD have our prompt attention. *it «> WM. S. ROBERTSON, WITH ->rjU|jrA.tKlNß & COTTRELL, IITOBTSRS AND JOBBERS OF sHardware, Cutlery, &c. Aad*mmy GOODS, Bolting Cloth fnin Packing and Belting, ;■, |*o7 MAIN STREET ; A ,.l JPJCHMOND. VA \jfm\lA. B.KyU, "" Sam'l P. Is elms, &mm Jbflyioy, H. L. Duvall. Wa. 8. HAMSEY, North Carolina. * . —— Dinsmore & Kyle, WHOLESALE \Qroeerti, And Commission 'f Merchants, , |s6jit Pratt Street, BALTIMORE, MD. 12-m. —■ , , m*r- . —-== Devoted to the Development of the Social and DANBURY, N. 0., THURSDjif, MARCH 16, 1876. ( ! \ ) i ) l j/' Ma^o r ; k de -> BY "FltlO." CHAPTER Vlf. The ride was almost a blank to Ma rah. Not until one of the brakesmen opened the oar door and sang out at the top of his luniks, "Wsburn," was she fully conscious of her surround ings. She sat up with a 6tart, and glanced quickly out of the window. The night was still dark and a driz i zling ruin had set in. She had no I idoa of the time, but thought it could not be far irorn daylight. The train hud stopped and the pas sengers were hurrying out. The shouts ! of the hotel porters, the screams of the j news-boys and iruit-venders, and the jostling of the crowd confused the girl so much that she knew not"what to do, but stood in helpless dispair amid the perfect t-ea ol human heals-. Only ftr a few moments was she thus. Calling up all her will and courage, she shook off tho hand of tho irnpor- i tunate porter and pushed her way j through the crowd which thronged the ! depot platform, until she stood at tho; door marked "ladies' parlor." This j she entered. Only one gas jet was i but a cheerful firp burned ip ' the stove and a rocking-chair—though | it was minus a back—was drawn up bofore it. In this 6he seated herself ; and began drying her rain-spriukled j garments. Some one cqiuo in to mend ; up the fire. He looked at the girl wonderingly. "How longjbefore tho eastern train is due ?",;Bhe asked, in a voice which did its beet to appear brave and indif ferent. "Not before eix, Miss." "What time Is it now ?" "Four, fifteen minutes." "Then I will just remain here until six. Be kind enough to bolt the door alter you nnd aQu that none but iadiea enter." He left her, and drawing up a more ] comfortable chair she sat down to plan, j The inquiry in.regard to the e .stern \ train was but a hoax to mislead the : man. She had only a few paltry pen- j nies left; so she must stop here at this ; place and find a home, if possible. She arose, walked to the window, and gftzed out at the now almost silent city. The gleaming of the street lamps here and there showed it to oe a large place. Tall buildings rose ou every side. "Surely," thought Ma 1 rah, ."among so many homes I may find one!" The hours dragged by, the rain com ing down in torrents, and the child sat alone and conn ad the bitter lesson ex perience held before her—dark and painful, hung with tho gloomy shad ows caught from the rayless past! At last the morning dawned. The man came in and kindly replenished the fire. One or two passers-by opened the door, glanced in at Marah, and i then went on. She ate the lunch | which Maston had begged of Auut ! Millie, his mother's cook, for her. It was not"a very bountiful supply, but she ate it with a relish and was thank ful for even that much. She smiled 6adly to herself as she put the last mouthful to her lips and thought of the difference between her life now, and what it was when she passed this very depot two years before with her adopted parents! The sun was just rising above the house tops when she left the station house and walked out in the city. The man called after her that the train would be due in a few minutes, but she pretended not to hear and walked rapidly forward. She did not wish to remalh until the cro\Vd had gathered.again ; ho shrank from a repetition of last nghts an noyances. The rain had ceased, but -ie pave rocent heavy showers. Only business men aud the workmen we're out; the fashionable had not yet left their pil lows Murah walked slowly along, gazing at the immense and innumerable buildings which stretched as for as the eye could roach. Richer and poverty confronted her on every side Here a stately palatial home; and there, crouching close in its very shadow, a squallid miserable den of poverty and want. Passers-by glanced at her cu riously/ but unmindful of th»ir ill bred stare she kept on, her face a per fect study to those whose- hoarts were not altogether insensible to the beau tiful and pure. Marah wandered on for hours, dead to fatigue aod weariness ; but at last sho'reached portion of tho city whore tho buildings were not so thick. This street was broad and wide, aud nent, white houses stood on each side. If she could only find a home in one of thankful she would be ! She approached one and timidly rang tho ball. It was answered by t light, haired child, with large, blue oyes, which opened still larger when M r »rah asked: "Does your'mother want to hire a gir" ? Seo, please. 1 can do any thing, and the^wages low." The child departed, but soon re turned with the answer that "they never took white servants " "It would be better to be dark, then !" inurmered Marah, as she ap proached the next door, and there rang the bell again. She thought she would bo more successful bore, for she was told to walk i* and await the pleasuro of the ' hen the lady entered she gaaed in surprise at Marah. "You hardly seem a servant," she said, as she took an inventory of the girl's clothing and geneial appear ance. "I am one, though, n«verthele«B." And Marah tried to put ou aa huiuhl air befitting her calling. "Lid you ever nurse any ? ever at tend to small children ?" "No, ma'am ; but I am sure I could learn very soon.' "Have you any reoommeudations frooajyour last home ?" "I have never been out before, lady," and her voice trembled in spite of herseli. • "Ah!" and the lady el«iNtod her eyebrows in tokeu of displeasure. "I don't think you wouH su'tme. I make it a point never to tuke a servant with out recommendations in regard to her honesty, etc. I have lost too many silver spoons, and other such articles, to be deceived again by an honest looking face. As to your never being out before, we won't discuss that as you don't suit, fclore, Elemmings, show this a child out!" Marah arrse, and fixing her eyes upou the lady's face, said in luouk hu mil ty ; "I haidly think we would suit, my self Many thanks for the tithe you have given we, for which I am greatly indebted. Let uje wish-you a pleas ant 'good-morning!'" The lady looked alter the retreating figure in undisguised astonishment • then, remembering the haughty carri age and the look she met in the mid- night eyes of the stranger, murmured: "Some pert Miss ; home, indeed ! The idea is ridiculous—in that garb, too!" Poor, little Marah ; how sanguine she was in the morning of finding a home, yet, as.the day waned and twi light drew its sable folds around the city she • was still upon the street, homeless and alone ! The day had been spent in vain. Weary with ro peated denials, worn out with wander ing, she sank on the pavement and uphi dißpaur ul(l^hrigj^| hud alike ded out; and the splendid eyes, dewy with unshed tears, had a pleading touching to see Just across the street from where she crouched stood a splendid man sion. The light from its windows beamed warm and bright. The cur i tain hau not been drawn ; and as Ala • rah watched tho light danco on the I polished wall, a stroug impulse seemed |to draw her to this home of wealth. I She crept close to the steps, and looked hungrily in. A lady sat before the grate, with a rosy baby her am.B. The child held out its fingers for the lamp, and crowed in baby glee. The mother caught the little outstretched arms, and covered the soft, pink palm with kisses. "Ah! she will know and under stand, for God has given her such a beautiful; she will feel for the moth- I erless !" murmured Marah. So, with out ringing, she opened tho door and j noiselessly entered. Tho room in which tke lady sat | opened directly into the hall The door was partly opened, but Marah gave a low kuock to acquaint the lady qf her prepuce. „ She did not even glance around, but said in a sweet, low voice: "Come in!" Marah advanced close to the lady, and stood just before her chair. Mrs. Arnold arose quickly when she looked up and saw the elegant looking little figure in its deep-mourning garments. "Have a chair," she said, placing one for her. "Baby and I was so busy we did not hear you ring; and I suppose Albert is in the servants' hall and did not *tt» nd the bell." All this time Marah had not spoken- She dared not laise her eyes. A flood of humiliation swept over her when she remembered she wan a beggar and hud called to beg a mouthful of bread and a shelter from the darkness of the night.! Th# lady she saw, though too wel] bred to question her, was waiting for her to make kuowu the cause of her visit. She put her hands together and worked them nervousbf; and Mrs. Arnold saw that they were white and delicate, and that the child was trem bling violently. "Lady —" Marah's voioe was low, but full of concentrated power and as sweet as the musical cadence ol the j siren's ; "I am a beyrgar—an orphan, ! without home or friends. All day I have wandered up and down your city, begging for work; but not one of all that I tried would take me. Night came ou, and still 1 was hoxeless. . Ah! lady, you cannot know the full meaning of that bitter word, 'home- ! less,' iuless, like myself, you had felt it Across the street I.saw your light. | I was ready then to give up and die, but it drew my steps to your door 1 looked in and saw you and your little baby ; i saw how you loved and issed it, and I said surely here is one who will feel for the motherless! Lady, I was once a* happy as your tiny babe —my home as bright; now lam au outcast! Where I now stand your child may one day stand, and [dead, as I now plead, for a home—a shelter to keep her from the street! let uie be your servant, your baby's nuiHe, anything—only do not send me to NUMBER 5 wander agaiu!" ltui child's words liad been so rap id, mid at had grown so vehe ment, that Mrs. Arnold could not re ply until she had finished and stood [muting and breathless before her. bhe did not pause to ask if Marahwas an impostor; her jrery tone carried truth and conviction to the heart of her hearer. She put her arms tender ly around thi girl, and said with fer vor : I tfi ! Q ? d ?* ty • > .T •WB^-oTpYf.-rri. '3l would'* no: turn a hungry bird from my door, k anil shall not one of God's own crea tures be still better cared for? You i shall stay with me, for I have only • Carrie and my husband to love !" 1 [CONTINUED NEXT WEEK.] How Wauy Would be Left ? A writer asks the following pungent questions: W hen the following classes are ta ken out of our churches, how many would be left ? All who will not pay their debts. All who are hypocritical. All who are deceitful, and talk about others behind their backs, All who get into debt without a prospect of paying the same. All who are proud and scornful, holding themselves above their fellow men, and shun th'ose less fortunate than, themselves. I whu worship money more than they do their Creator. All who speculate on the ignoranoo of others- t All who are tattlers. All who think more of a wicked rich man than theyjdo of a pious poor one. ' All who oppress the poor. All who make long prayers for tho suke of being heard and seen of men. All who are vain and self-conceited. When tßege, and a good many oth ( era that could be mentioned, are taken out, the church will be left without a member. The religion of Jesus does not have any of the above defects. It . makes the true convert cheerful, hope | fui and charitable; disposed to visit the widow and orphan, and to keep unspotted from the world. It does* not make one proud or scornful, hut f on the contrary, makes one desirous of doing good, to be meek and humble, and to be kind to all, aa opportunity may offer. Oh ! that we had less pre tension in our churches, and more genuine Christianity. Drinking for Effects. He said he didn't care anything about liquor only for the effects. Ho never liked the taste oi it; it always made him "gag" to drink it, and he made an awful face as he took it down. But it was the effects that he was af ter. He was a nice young man when we first heard him say that. He had health, good looks, and a respectable position in society. The only percep tible effects of his potations then was ' the heightened color in his oheeks, in creased brilliancy of his eyes, and vi i vacity in conversation. He was gen ! erous and liberal with his money, too, and had a host of friends, Well, he 1 kept on drinking for the effects, and he got thorn, as every ,man will who keeps at it long enough- Thaftast time we saw him he was that pitiable object, a human wreok. He was stand ing at a bar pleading for a drink on time, as lti» trembling fingers were un able to find even a solitary nickel in the pockets of his ragged apparel. Ho had 'kept on "gagging'* over his whmky, and drinking for the eflfeota until he hadn't any effects left except those painfully, apparent ones, pover ty, disease, privation aud v&nished re spectability. Verily, he got the effects. ——tlrisii World,

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