THE DANBUHY REPORTER.
VOLUME 11.
THE REPORTER.
PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY
PEPPER & SONS,
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SAM'L WHITS, JOHN A. JARBOK,
O. E. SCHEMMA s.
WHITE k BUSGUMAN,
wholesale dealers in
HATB, CAPS, fURS, STRAW GOODS AND
LADIES' HATS.
Ho. 318 W. Baltimore street, Baltimore, Md
H. M. LANLELL,
with
B. P. BATLBY & CO.,
importers of
CHINA, GLASS AND QUEENS
WARE, LAMPS, to.
17 Hanover street, Baltimore.'Md.
~ eTm. WILSON, or N. 0.,
WITH
K. W. POWERS k CO.,
WHOLESALE DRUGGISTS,
and dealers in Paints, Oils, Dyes, Varnishes,
French Window Glaa«, Ac.,
Ho. 1306 Main St., Richmond, Va.
Proprietors Aromatic Peruvian BiUert J[ COM
pound Syrup Tolu and Wild Cherry.
J. W. RANDOLPH k ENGLISH,
BOOKSELLERS, STATIONERS, AND
BLANK-BOOK MANUFACTERERB.
1318 Main r.treet, Richmond.
A large Stock qf LA IT HOOKS altoay on
nol-Sm hand. a
A. L. ELLETT, A. JUDSON WATKINS,
OLAY DREWRY, STEPHEN B. HUOHgS
A. L. ELLETT k CO.,
importers and jobbers of
DRY GOODS AND NOTIONS.
No*. 10, 12 and 14 Twelfth street (between
Main and Carv)
81-ly RICHMOND, VA.
HARTMjf& H HITEHILL,
WHOLESALE CLOTHIERS, CLOTHS, CAS
SIMERES, ETC.
31 and 323 Baltimore streets," Baltimore, Md.
nol-ly
O. F. PAY, ALBERT JONES.
DAY & JONES,
Manufacturers of
SADDLERY, HARNESS, COLLARS,
TRUNKS, J-c.
No. 336 W. Baltimore street, Baltimore, Md.
»»l-ly
W. A. tfUCKJSR, H. C. SMITH
8 B. BPRAOINB.
TUCKER, SMITH & CO.,
Manufacturers and Wholesale Dealers in
BOOTS; SHOES; HATS AND CAPS.
250 Baltimore street, Baltimore, Md.
•i-ir
JNO. W. HOLLAND
with
T. A. BRYAN k CO.,
Manufacturers of FRENCH and AMERICAN
CANDIES, in every variety, and
wholesale dialers in
FRUITS, NUTS, CANNED GOODS, CI
GARS, #c.
339 and 341 Baltimore Street, Baltimore, Md.
Orders from Merchants solicited. UsSi
O W. THORN, J K. ETCHIBON.
C. Ws THORN k CO.,
wholesale dealers in
BATS, CAPS. BTRAW GOODS, AND
LADIES' TRIMMED HATS.
1906 Main Street, Riohmond, Va.
CHAB. T. BALBLEY,
with
CHAS. P. STOKES k CO.,
Manufacturers and wholesale dealers in all
kinds of
WOODEN, WILLOW AND TINWARE,
Richmond, Va
Broom, Bucket and Tinware factories, Harvie
town, Va.
D. H. STEVENSON,
MORT. W. ROOERS, L SUNOLUFF
BTETENSON, ROGERS k CO.,
wholesale
BOOTS AND SHOES,
Sl4 W. Baltimore Streat, (near Howard,)
Baltimore, Md.
R. B. BEBT,~
WITH
. HENRY 80NNEB0RN & CO.,
WHOLESALE CLOTHIERS.
90 Hanover Street, (between German and
Lombard Streets,)
BALTIMORE, MD.
B. BONNEBORN, B. SLIMLINE.
B. F. KING
WITH
JOHNSON, SUTTON k CO.,
DRY GOODS.
Not. 326 and 328 Baltimore street; N. E. cor
ner Howard,
BALTIMORE MD.
T. W. JOHNSON, R. M. SUTTON,
J. a. R. CRABBE, O.J. JOHNSON.
—l-lj.
ESTABLISH ID 1825.
RED SOLE LEATHER.
E. LARRABEE A SONS,
Importers and Dealers in
880E FINDINGS AND FRENCH CALF
SKINS.
Manufacturers of
OAK-TANNED HARNESS AND UPPER
LKAI HER.
No. 20 South Calvert street; Baltimore, Md. I
' Consignments of Rough Leather solicited. !
47-Om
ORACB'S DREADFUL SECRET.
Mra. Grace Wilmington pinned a spray
of lilies of the valley in her dark braids,
and a smile of gratified pride curved her
red lips a* she regarded the reflection of
her fair self in the handsome pier-glass
before whiob she stood.
A simple but artistic blending gnftack
not and white satin fell about her supple
form, the drapery caught up here and
there by Icnott* of pink rosebuds and tioy
lily of the valley bells, and great ropes
of pearls gleamed on her superb neck
and perfect arms.
. "I hope Arthur will be pleased with
my looks to-night," she murmured, and
then turned, flushing rosily, seeing Ar
thur beside her.
"I am always pleased with you, my
wife," he said, holding her a little away
and gazing at her with a passionate ad
miration, before which her large, proud
eyes dropped with modest delight. "I
almost wish you were not BJ young and
beautiful, for I am half jealous, darling,
of the adoration with which sooiety re
gards you."
She drew nearer to him and clasped
her.warm, white arms about bis neck.
"That is beoause I am your wife, my
Arthur," she whispered. "Society saw
nothing admirable in me when I was a
saleswoman in your store. I despise
its compliments as much as I would scorn
its opinious, did I not desire to be hon
ored and esteemed for your sake."
"Thanks, my dear one You have a
wise head and a true heart. lam proud
of you; and I would not lose the kisses
of these velvety, loveable lips to gain tbe
crown of a king."
"Flatterer," she observed, stroking
with infantile fondness the clustering
black locks just fleoked with the first
frosts of age. "You will spoil me, Ar
thur, with your adulation and indul
gence Y r ou are too good to me."
"Will you recant that, Grace," he
said, smiling, "when I tell you that I am
forced to he unkind 'to you ihis evening ?
I am very sorry, dear, but if you attend
tbe reunion, you will be obliged to go
with one of your friends, as I will be
detained at home for a business consult
ation with Vale Meudon."
The sweet, girli-h face clouded in
stantly, and her black eyes were full of
shadow.
"Are you very much disappointed, my
love ?" asked her husband. "I can
bring you home, you know."
"I was not thinking of that, Arthur,"
she answered; "my thoughts were of
Mr. Mendon. I distrust him. I believe
he will be tbe instrument of bringing us
trouble of some kind yet"
"A woman's antipathy and nervous
presentiment, dear," he laughed. ' I
don't quite understand this antagonism
between you two. Graco Wilmington
blushed and was silent.
There bad bceu a time when this
plausible, slow voioed partner of her
husband would have willingly lost the
favor of heaven to have gained one
glance of tender confidence from her
haughty, heedless eyes. And Grace
knew that from the hour of his repulse,
Vale Mendon's secret, relentless hate was
warring against her.
"Mendon is • peculiar fellow," went
on Arthur Wilmington; "he is not very
prepossessing to oaa who does not know
him thoroughly; but be is invaluable to
me. He will be here presently. Good
bye, love. Let me know bow you de
cide about going out."
"I will stay with you, Arthur," she
returned.
"My good darling," he answered, and
left her alone.
Grace still stood under the ohandelier,
suffused with the moony splendor of tbe
gaslight, whon a sound at the low win
dow startled her.
She turned quickly, with • hushed
cry of alarm, to see the shutters slowly
opened and the plate-glass door puahed
back by a large, shapely hand, upon
wbioh glittered a massive ring of oarved
gold set with a crescent of opals. She
sprang to the door through wbioh her
husband went, and then stood still,
white and breathless.
"Oh, Grace, forgive me," whispered
the young and handsome intruder. "I
wanted to Bee you so badly, dear. But
I learned that you were married—and
—and—does your husband know,
Graoe ?"
"He knows nothing, my poor Tltrry,"
hor pitying eyes fixed lovingly upon the
DANBURY, N. C., THURSDAY, JULY 26, 1877.
sad features und the tiue, graoetul lortn
that oven tbe poor, soiled and tattered
raiment oould not disfigure. "You have
kept thin, dear ?" She took the cold
hand end lightly touched the flashing
ring
"I would have starved, Grace, rather
than have parted with thia precious re
minder of those days when I was unac
cused of crime, and you my counselor
and comforter," he answered, passion
ately. "Ob, my darling, if you can
advise me now; if you oaa help me
ever so little, that I may help myself, I
promise never to abuse your trust, nor
cause you one hour of anxiety."
"You escaped, of course?" she in
quired with pale, tremulous lips,
lie nodded humbly.
"My husband is a very stern man,
Harry, in many things," she said ; "I
can only help you in one way now.—
Arthur's cashier is about to 1 avc him,
and I think I could seourc the situation
for you. Here is money to make your
self presentable. Take it, and come
hore to morrow introducing yourself us
Harry Levison—son of my lather's dear
est friend. I trust to your lovo, Harry,
that you will be very disoreet."
"You are an angel," cried the young
man, holding her tightly to bis bosom,
and kissing her again and agaiu. She
returned his careasls while her tears fell
fast.
"My poor Harry ! I will never for
sake you—never 1" she murmured;
"now go. It might be my ruin if Ar
thur should find you here."
Little those two imagined that human
eyes were upon them. But Vale Men
don, coining as he always did. with
soundless footsteps through the shadows,
saw the meeting aud parting, the plead
ing and uaiesses, tho tears and kisses,
and with a diabolical and jubilant smile,
exulted at his ow.n inferences.
His cunning was too methodical in its
spirit of revenge to inform Arthur Wil
mington hastily of what he had seen.
He chose to tunnel society through and
through with small, sharp insinuations,
aod therein lay bis train of incidents
and ciroumstances, until the hour was
ripe for a grand explosion. He smiled
grimly when, in a few days, he saw
Harry Levison installed at the cashier's
desk.
"Levison's antecedents are qnite as
much unknown as those of poor Wil
mington's fascinating wife. She is an
old friend of the gentleman, I hear, and
he secured the situation by her influ
ence," Mendon observed in seeming con
fidence to one of those unoonscious agenis
of the subtle plotter—a curious gossip.
Very well indeed be knew bow his words
would be transposed:
"It is a pity that confiding Mr. Wil
mington knows nothing of the antece
dents of his wife and this handsome
young Levison. Her friendship for him
must be very sentimental, indeed, when
she interests herself to procure him a
position. But thi&is a world of sur
prises."
Again Mr. Mendon smiled, and more
grimly than before, when he heard of
beautiful Grace Wilmington being es
corted to opera and theater, reception
and soiree by this fortunate and envied
cashier, while inquisitive and oensorious
tongues gabbled polite disapproval.
"Poor Wilmington is aa trusting H
husband as he is a loving one," he ob
served, with a sanotimonious sigh. He
knew quite well that reputations ean bo
slain with a sigh. It was one of these
sighs that first roused tbe jealousy of
jealousy of Arthur Wilmington's heart.
"What do you mean, Vale ?" be de
manded, with pallid lips. "Do people
dare to comment upon the oonduct of
my wife 1 It was my wish that Levison
should be her escort when I could not.
He is the soul of honor, and one of Mrs
Wilmington's oldest friends. What have
they dared to say— these idle chat
terers ?"
Mendon turned his countcnanoe aside
as if he would hide some pitying, un
controllable emotion.
"We must yield sometimes to public
opinion," he said, in a low, suave voice.
"Would it not be wise to kiudly remon
strate with Mrs. Wilmington? If she
loves you she will avoid this fellow. I
think, dear friend, that it would be kind
er to keep her in ignoranoe of the rumor
that ahe has received him secretly at
night in her loud ir byway of the win
dow."
Wilmington sprang to his feet, his
eyes ablaze, a frown on his brow, and ev
ery nerve convulsed.
"How dare they say that ?" he cried.
"Meudon, if you have lied to me, you
will live to repent of it."
The traducer arose and confronted the
agituted husband in simulated sorrow.
"I saw it once myself," he said, with
apparent reluctance. "It was the even
ing I came here—do you remember ?
to consult about the disposal of those
stocks. It was the day previous to the
one that the fellow came here. Ask her,
Ariliur, she will net deny it. I must
Ifeave you now, and believe me, with
great fears for your happiness."
Wilmingtou at once went to
his wife. Very kindly he meutioned
what ho had beard, and his doubt and
i pain grew intense as she shrunk from him
guiltily and began to week.
"Only assure me, Grace," he pleaded
in agony, "that he was not here that
night. 1 cannot believe that, while your
lips were warm with my kisses, you could
be so false and lost as to caress another.
Tell me tbe truth, my wife."
"I oannot, Arthur," she moaned.—
"Sometime I will, but not now."
His countenance grew stern and
"gloomy. "I will not force your confi
| dence, Grace," he said, "but until you
are frauk with me, you and I must be
strangers under one roof."
Graoe's sobs did not move him then,
neither the pale patience with which she
bore hot fate as the days went on. It
came to pass that one mojning Yale
Mendon came while Arthur was absent,
and Grace was more displeased than
puzzled at his offensive and condescend
ing politeness. Every glance, tone and
word were tacit expressions of commis
eration for her whom bis insinuations had
made one of the most miseruble and
abused of womankind.
"But how does Arthur bear with our
j misfortune ?" he asked, after a little
I time.
"I do not understand," responded
"Trace.
"Indeed ! has he not told you that our
store was closed yesterday by creditors?
I sympathize deeply with him in his
trouble. I being only a nominal part
ner, will lose very little."
Grace winced at the vindictive tri
umph of his .hateful visage.
"If you had chosen me instead of Ar
thur for a husband, you would not be
again poor," tbe malicious look seemed
to say. Before she could speak a ser
vant entered bearing a scented and fas
tidiously enveloped note. She started,
glanced at Mendon, and grew white as
death.
"MR Meudon," she said, sweet and
timidly, "will you pardon my absence,
and please say to Arthur that an urgent
m\tter demands my immediate pres
"euce ?"
"With pleasure," he replied, bowing
low, as he opened the door for her to pass
out. As she vanished, he saw lying on
the threshold the slip of paper she had
so hurriedly taken from the envelope
and so agitatedly perused.
"Grace," he read, "eome at once Ev
erything is ready. Happiness and inde
pendence are ours. Oh, my darling, I
am wild with joy." The missive bore
the signature of "Harry," in tbe bold
and handsome chirography that he well
Jyiew.
Again that grim, vengeful smile flitted
over Vale Menton's thin, hard lips.
"Perhaps we can spoil gallant Harry's
flirtation; and perhaps—stranger things
have happened—one of these days I
may conquer her stubborn heart."
While he sat there vaguely scheming,
Arthur Wilmington entered.
"Well, Arthur, what news ?" inquired
Mendon. .
Wilmington shook his head despond
ently. "I may save something,' be an
swered, despairingly. "Poor Grace."
"She should love you tbe more for
your misfortunes," was tbe bland observ
ation.
"She will, Vile," said Arthur; "lam
sure of it; she is young, thoughtless as
the young ever are, but as spotlessly
pure as an angel I have been too
harsh with her, but I mean to atone by
renewed kindness. Gilson was not at
home ; if you will see him and return
here after, we may plan something ad
vantageous."
Mention withdrew, and as he did so,
placed the note he held in Arthur's
hand. "Read," he said.
One glunce, and the unhappy man
comprehended the import of the fatal
missive. Then he paced the floor and
wrung his bands as u woman might have
done in the insnnity of some maddening
grief.
"Lost! lost!" he cried; "my riches
have gone; my friends will follow ; my
wife has deserted me ! There is noth
ing more of life than a cheerless strug
gle for bread, moistened by the tears of
anguish and the sweat of poverty. Oh,
Grace—my wife! my wile!"
For a moment he paused. The old
tenderness and the old yearning surged
through his soul. He cast down the
fateful note and set his heel upou it.
"Mine was the fault," he ericd. "I
had no right to bind her fresh young
life to mine. I will give her her free
dom by my death. And thep, Harry
Levison, if you wrong her by word or
deed, if you cause her one sigh or one
tear, may I rise out of my grave to hurl
you into yours."
He slowly drew his pistol; he placed
the oold muzzle against his hot fjrt head,
his finger was on the trigger, when a
shriek startled him from his fell pur
pose.
"Arthur, my husband ! what would
you do?"
He glanced back, laying down the
weapon, and saw Harry Levison stand
ing with a shocked face by the open
door. He turned away again, all the
pain and jealousy of his soul glooming
in his wild eyes, when Grace put her
pleading hands tenderly on his arm.
"Oh, Arthur, if you persist in being
miserable, you will break my heart,"
said loving Grace.
He gazed into her earnest eyes for
one instant, and then folded an arm
about her.
"Do yon love me so much, my wife 7"
"Love you, Arthur ? So well that
if you had accomplished your rash act,
I should have shared your gravo. It
was because I feared that I would lose
your love that I have kept a heavy se
cret for so long. Harry, my brother,
please tell Arthur what it is."
The youn» man came hesitatingly for
ward, and his cheeks grew hot and red,
as he began his story.
Five years before he had been con
victed and sentenced to a long imprison
ment for a crime he never committed,
although few believed him to be inno
ceut. He escaped from the prison, and
penniless, friendless, footsore and hun
gry, he came to his sister for help
During all his vicissitudes he had kept
the opal ring that was an heirloom. It
had been the means of proving his
identity as the heir of a considerable
fortune shared by Grace, whose presence
that day had been required that she
might annex her signature to oertain
important papers.
And better than wealth were the ti
dings that had that day come, of Har
ry's freedom from the thraldom of sus
picion; for the real criminal had been
found and had confessed his felony.
"And now, my dear frieod and broth
er," said Hairy, "I shall insist that you
accept from me the loan of sufficient
lucre to satisfy your clamoring creditors,
and begin business again. Inthemeau
time, if you will submit your books to a
keen and careful accountant, you will
learn that Yale Meudon is a swindler "
"I believe it," cried Arthur, remem
bering bis cruel insinuations against the
sweet creature nestled so contentedly in
her husband's protecting arms. "Gracy,
my pet, what do you think f"
"That I am bappy because you and
my brother are," she answered simply ;
"and because I have no dreadful secret."
"And you were afraid I would send
Harry back to prison, and be ashamed
of you on his acoouut'( Was that it,
my wife T"
"Forgive me, Arthur,"
"And forgive me, for my doubts and
harshness."
It was a blissful reconciliation, never
more to be marred by the wiles of mod
ern lagos.
Vale Mendon's peculations were un
earthed, and after refunding to Mr.'
Wilmington a portion of his Bpoils, he
left the place for unknown pastures of
plunder.
And the gossips commenting upen
tbe affair decarrd that there would have
been no scandal only for GRACE'B
DREADFUL SECRET
L>ve, the toothuclie and tight boots
are thing* wlnnti cauiut betept secret.
NUMBER 7
Above the Surface,
The world makes a great mistake
when it judges of any person, or claM
lof persons, by the outside. Man looks
on the exterior; God looks at the heart.
000 person judges of you by the clotbea
you wear. If you are genteelly dressed,
no matter whether the tailor and seam
stress are paid or not, you are considered
respectable, and your smile) and society
are courted.. Another will judge of you
according to your bank book. If a man
or family hag abundance of money, all
blemishes of intellect or character sink
out of sight at once in the estimation of
; these superficial judges. Others look to
official positions and titles, as if these
alone made the man or woman. The
curse of the world is in this outside
: glitter and show which attract the eye,
I just as if diamonds, and laces, and fine
carriages made or oould make the man.
Prodigality, licentiousness, intemper
-1 anoe, in a word, vioe in all its forms,
; goe-i robed in costliest fabrios, often rolls
in splendid earriages with liveried driv
ers not unfrequently, while virtue is
poor and obscure and despised. But in
God's eye the scene is obanged. He
looks at the inside, not at the outside ;
at the heart and soul, not at the gar
ments. Many a poor, lowly saint is
"Little and unknown,
Loved and prized of God alone."
They shall shine in the kingdom as stars
of the first magnitude forever and ever,
while the others shall rot in obscurity
and siuk into darkness eternally.
In this we do not wish to be misun
derstood as uttering one word against
decency and propriety in dress, and in
all that makes up life; nor do we say
aught against riches properly acquired,
only that these are not the proper stand
ards of manhood and womanhood, liook
not at the outer appearance, but at the
man.
Don't Worry about Yourself.
To retain or recover health, persons
should be relieved from anxiety concern
ing disease. The mind has power over
the body—for a person to thiuk he has
a disease will often produce that disease.
This we see effected when the mind is
intensely concentrated upon the disease
of another. We have seen a person
seasick, in anticipation of a voyage, be
fore reaching the vessel. We have
known people to die of cancer in the
stomaob, when they had no canocr in
the stomaoh or any other mortal disease.
A blindfolded man, slightly pierced in
the arm, has fainted and died from be
lieving he was bleeding to death. There
fore persons should have their minds di
verted as much as possible from them
selves. It is by their faith that men are
saved, and it is by their faith that they
die. As a man thinketb, so is he. If
he wills not to die, he can often live in
spite of disease; and, if be has little or
no attachment to life,-he will slip away
ah easily as a child will fall asleep. Men
live by their minds as well as by their
bodies. Their bodies have no life of
themselves ; they are only receptaoles of
life—tenements for their minds, and the
will has much to do in continuing the
physical oocupaocy or giving it up.
Political Quackery.
Professional politicians—men who
live by office and are incapable of living
out of office—have had and have in
their keeping the political destinies of
the Stater One has only to look over
the lists of executive oommittees and
nominating conventions to reach this
conclusion. Men who never fired a shot
in the service of their oountry, or sec
tion ; men who never originated a broad
and practicable scheme of public policy;
men who have never reaobed distinction
in any branch of business, or in any
recognized profession; men who under
stand nothing but wire-working and log
rolling, have had the State in charge.—
We have by the force of circumstances,
rather than by our own exertions,
aohieved a great victory ; but if we hive
only exchanged one set of despots and
incompetents for another, our victory
will prove a barren one. In times gone
by the South was famous for the states
manship of its leaders; if it is to re
oover its lost infiueooe, and to maintain
its ancient prestige in the counsels of
the nation, it must summon its wisest
and worthiest to the front. We have
plenty of good material; the trouble is
that we do not ooncern ourselves suffi.
ciently in the uistter of selection.—JV.
O Pirayvne.