North Carolina Newspapers

'V W. Fletcher Au8bon,Editor and Managot. P0H dOD VoH CQWTRY AXD FOR TliUTff." $1.UU a yearm advance. t 4 V x VOL; VI. , ' -- ' . - .r... . ... , BUAUHFUI. THINGS. Beautiful faces are those that wear . ' It matters little if lark or fair Whole-soukd honesty printed there. . Beautiful eyes are those that show Like crystal panes where heart ftrei glow, Beaut I hi 1 thoughts that burn below. ' Uteautlral Hps are those whose words 'Leap from the heart like the song of birds, I Yet whose utterance prudence girds. - beautiful hands are those that do Work thatjs earnest, bra ye and true, iMoment by moment the long day through. Beautiful foe( are those that go ' . iOn kindly ministries to and fro Down lowliest ways, If Go wills so. Beautiful shoulders are those that bear jCenseless burdens of homely care ' With patient grace and dully pr:iyer. 'Beautiful lives are those that bless Bilent rivers of. happiness, Whos9 hidden fountains but few may guess. PBULIETTE KELLY. BY PKAJJOIS 8TSBNE PALMER. HE Kelly a r in house (where lived Hiram Kelly and Pruliette, his sis ter) was a roughly clapboarded, tin painted bu ild ing. Back of its main house was a sum mer - kitchen, and back j of that a Marge woodshed, open on the side inext the yard, (rotted away The wooden steps had from the "front ; door land from the one leading '- into the kitchen, and .now these' two 'etranded doors gave '. the ' place an almost abandoned look. Evidently 'the door from the shed into the sum mer or back kitchen was the only one , Sn'use. The house seemed to stand in , (the midst of a pasture ; there was no 'fence about it and the grass was propped shot, as if by sheep. On the hard earth under ; the open shed was a table, and sitting by this table a woman. She had no lamp, fend as she sat there in the gathering shadows (which had o'oine early into !the great, bare shed, as if finding it a 'congenial place), it was difficult at 'first to see it clearly. She was a thin, old woman, with sharp features her -eyes being perhaps the sharpest of all." (Her dress was a limp gown of bluo calico." On the table was plate of what looked like cold boiled potatoes and a cup of salt. She gave us a curt nod and .then went on . cutting off . pieces of potato and sprinkling them with salt. , ; ' 'Can you let rae have a little cream ?" Miss Larned asked. "Well, I ain't agoin to stop eatin' 'to git it f er ye thet's certain. " , We sat down on the board platform Wound the pump and waited. " I had come the day before to the Larned's camp on the New York shore lof Lake Ontario. Their tents were jpitched on the end of a long point ibat stretches out into the water. This . .ievening Miss Larned hart been sent . after cream to the Kelly farmhouse, 'which. was near by on the shore, and I had gone with her. -' .' We sat for some time on the pun: p, jplatform waiting , for Pruliette Kelly ; to finish her meal. She was not quite ' alone. ' There were no cats or dogs about, but a bluish-gray hen which 'also seemed to have a sharp, discon tented expression stood by her chair, and from time to time she fed it bits !f j.otato. When the old woman was !doaeeating ehe got the pail of cream for us, and we left. ." She had hardly . Ispoken. ,. ''.. ' A shdrt distance from the farmhouse Iwe met an elderly man. , He was tall r 'and bent, and walked slowly, as if his companions 7 were sober, familiar .: thoughts. ' .." "Good evenin' Miss," he 6aid. "Hev you be'n to the house ?" . 1 "We have just 'come , from there. We got some cream of your sister. . Then I was introduced to Mr. Hiram 'Kelly. : j Tbere was a pile of cedar fenca rails 'at the aide of the path. He sit down 'on them, with a farmer' usual dfesire ito rest his legs whenever, possible. It Was a pleasant July evening, . and, as jwe were in no hurry, we also sat down ton the rails. ," , V ' : "So you've ben tuk io see Pruli ette ?" he said, speaking to me. ."I s'pose you .'thought her queer folks imostly does. Wa'al, feho is queer; but tho's emart, an' ' she's got her - good hniate, too,' Pruliette hes fcel trials, r mm on the wust of . all was thpt she wap born with a sharp tongue I've heafd father tell Bhe got it natural from mother's mother . She allers bed it, even when she an' I was little. When ehe grew up, the young fellers was mostly scairt of her. At lit ' Jita Lane come along ; he was a widower with' a little gal, Mandy, 'bout sis years old. Jim made up to Pruliette, an' she seemed to kinder soften. She didn't talk "'eharp to him nor to the little gal, an' 6he was gentler with us all. 'Twas all fixed, an they was go in to be married; but some of the neighbors told Jim (he was a stranger in these, parts) what a name 6he hed fur bein a scold. It scairt him oat. '.'P'rhaps he thought she'd ab::se little Mandy. But she wouldn't' hov' She was real fond of that gal, an' she'd allers hev' treated her well ; fur changin'. her likes and "dislikes ain't one of Pruliette's failin's. v Wa'al, Jim Lane kinder sueaked off, tayin' he was goin out West to git a home ready fur her. I guess he was scairt to break it right off, after what he'd heard tell of Pruliette's tongue. She looked fur him to come back, , an got r adv fur the weddin. I euspicioued how 'twould be, an so did father, who was livin' then; but we didn't like Bay in' nothin' to her. She kep on waitin' an waitin', till she saw herself he wouldn't come; an' then all the bitter come baok, an' 6he got sharper than ever. r: She never speaks of him, but sometimes she says .somethin bout little Mandy." He paused, but only for a moment; probably , he did not have many op portunities of talking. ; 'I think , she's . allers hed a secret idee of runnin' acrost Jr.m an findin' he didn't mean to leave her. Ten or twelve years . ago a neighbor, George Harker, got some back pension money an' went out West to locate. He was goin' to come back an' get his wife ; but he never did, an' she 'most went oraay. . One . of our older sisters, Sarah, hed married out in Kansas, an' she'd be'n writin' Pruliette to come out an visit her. Along in the sum mer, after hayin', Pruliette s'prised' me' by sayin' she was goin'. I heard she told Jane Harker she'd bring her hus band back to her. Off she went ; an she kep, her word to Jane Harker. She found George, reckless, an' dead broke,. out in a minin' camp in Colo rado (he'd lost the money in some way an' wa'n't cominV home); an' she brought him back an' handed him over to Jane same's if he'd been a stray cow. ' " 'But, Pruliette,' says I when she got home, 'why didn't ye stay an' hev' a visit with Sarah? " I,did visit with Srah,' says Pru liette ; 'I got to her house one . after noon, an' that evenia' she told me all she bed to tell, an' I told her all I . hed to tell. So, there bein no need of stay in', I lef the next . mornia' and went' on West to find that sneakin George Harker.' ' ''As Pruliette gets older an more silent her tongue keeps just as sharp ; it's like a razor, gettin' sharper, less you use it. We hardly ; speaks, an hevn't eat together - fur years. 3 e'pose she'll allers live with me," and Hiram sighed unconsciously ; "fur by father's will she has a right to a home an a livin' on the old place, an' kin pasture sis head of cattle on it, an' keep hens. It's bad fur a woman, not hevin' a real home of her own. She's got ' dreadful sol'tary. She won't even hev' no cat nor dog-nothin' but thet old blue hen thet she's got used to, an likes to hev' 'round. It's our'na hen, follers her 'bout an', never seems to want to set. . She takes com fort with it. I s'pose women folks hes got to hev' somethin' to fuss over1." f It was growing late ; so we. got up and bade Hiram good-night. ' He, to'o, rose and moved, slowly off toward the house, jas if in no great hutry to reach it. ' t "Poor Hiram !" said Miss . Larned ; 'hia sister must be a trial to him. suppose he'4 like to narry and live as other nieu do. Of course, no woman will marry him, knowing that Pruliette has got to live with them, and he's fast getting to be an old man. ' But, dxd you notice her' eyes? almost an amber color., I'm sure she must have been a very pretty girl." " . . t , ,. A few days later Mr3." Loring and her 'little daughter x years old,. 01 ive Loring:, came to" the camp. One evesiing Olive walked with mo to tho PLYMOUTH, N. C; FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 2, . i . ' - Kelly farmhouse. She was a gentle little thing, somewhat shy with new acquaintance Misn Kelly wad busy in the wood-1 shed and back kitchen; "Takes all my time cookin fur the hayin' help," , ehe grumbled, with unusual garrulity. : "Men folks want to be eatin', eatin', eatin I" She stared hard, at Olive, and finally went into the pantry and brought out a little cake that looked very dry and old. "Here's somethin' fur ye, little gal,", she said, thrusting it into the child's hand. Olive drew back, receiving ' the gift wit a hardly audible murmur of thanks. On the way home she was silent, and I saw she had been fright ened by the grim-looking old woman. The Larneds got their ; eggs and butter, and milk from the Kelly farm, and had. been in the habit of sending for them. Several times in the course of the next week Miss Kelly brought these . supplies to the camp herseli. She spoke little on these occasions, - . - ? . .. . but her manner was less surly than it had been. Each time she brought some trifle for Olive : Loring, but Olive continued to be afraid of her. - One Saturday morning we ' men all started off to spend the day fishing near some islands to the west, of us. Bufe, the man-of -all-work, was left in charge of the camp. As the morning was hot and Bultry, none of the ladies went with us, preferring 1 to stay on the cool, breezy point. Early in the afternoon Mrs. Larned ' wished to send Bufe on an errand to a farm house standing on the end of a point that stretohed out into the lake parallel with ours ; a deep bay about half a jnile wide separated . the two points.. Olive asked to go with Rufe, and no objection was made, she being .accustomed to go about with him. Two boats had been left at the camp ; .me was a large, heavy skiff, the othest a little canoe which was used for pad 'dling about in on quiet evenings. ,' Bufe took the big skiff jand rowed, away with Olive sitting in the stern. A hot, thick haze hung over the water,-, and from.the camp they could Jiardly make out the boat as it neared the point opposite. Suddenly all the yapor that had filled the air seemed! to gather into a black cloud; and soon this cloud) glowed with streaks of " flame,' " ahd emitted hoarse growls. ' j "It will be a thunderstorm,'" ex-J claimed Mrs. Loring. "I wish Olive! was here with me ; she's so afr aid of thunder.'! It happened that Fi'uliette" Kelly: had come to the camp with a pail of -butler. They invited her to stay till f the storm .was over. : Now a blast of hot wind swept over the lake and caught the haze up with it, carrying it oft to the ; angry black cloud, which had swollen till it filled nearly the whole sky. 'As tho haze vanished' objects near the opposite point cbuld be more clearly diBtin-. guished. s "See," cried Mrs. Loring, "isn't that tho boat pulling put from shore? Oh, why doesn't Rufe stay at ; the farm house ! How can he be so fool ish!"'. " Pruliette drew Mrs. Larned back. "The little gal is alone in thet there boat," she said, in a solemn whisper. "Bufe must a-left her in it when he went up to the house ; an' that sutlden wind druv it off the shore. The Ran dall boat must be away from home; fur I kin see Rufe runnin up an' down the bank, an if 'twas there he'd foller her. : -The -wind is drivin' the boat r ight. toward us.' ,' The rain began to fall in torrents, churning the already vexed water till it seemed to boil. It was one of those violent thunderstorms to which Lake Ontairo is subject duriug the hot season. It grew dark, and the boat was hidden. When the rain stopped a cold hurricane' rushed by, and the panic-stricken water , fled before it in swift, headlong waves.' : Now the boat was visible again, tossing about, seem jag to share the agony of the water. The! women could 'Bee Olive cling-' ing to a seat, in constant danger bf being thrown out ; the blast carried her shrill screams to their ears. "See, the boat may be driven . against the point!" cried one of, them. But as it came they saw the wind would take it by; outside the poiut. ' - An open shod had been built for tho boats on the western r.ideof the point, where, as was now' lbs ase, the water -was protected from the gales that came up from the south and east. Prtf liette" Kelly ran tc this boathonse, and, nothing else being there, launched the canoe. She paddled it through the calmef water out to the edge of the angry sea that swept around the point. It was evident tkat the canoe could not liveJifor more than a fflmnent in 6uch a'sea. An instant later the skiff Olive standing ' in it, screaming and stretching out her ' hands to , her mother on the shore came scudding by the point. , Pruliette gave a stroke with the paddle that made the canoe shoot forward ; she grasped the skiff and, with a vigorous push, sent it in toward the calmer water.' This push reacted on the canoe, which slipped out still further among the waves. The old woman struggled bravely, trying to balance the frail craft and drive it toward the'shore. She had only gained a few yards when a billow broke over the canoe, filled it and sank it. ,Two of the younger women waded into the shallow water, dragged the skiff to land and restored the child to her mother. - They saw something that the waves rolled toward the shore. They seized it and carried it from'the water. Life was not quite crushed out from the poor old body, and after working over her for some time she began to show signs of re turning consciousness. Hiram was found, and he and pne f the hired men carried his sister back to her home. -When the doctor came he said it was doubtful 'if she survived the shock; she had never been a strong woman. . ' . ? Toward "evening Hiram and the doo- tor and Mrs. Larned and little Olive's mother were in Pruliette Kelly's room, where she lay motionless on the bed. Of a' sudden she roused, glanced around ' nervously, . and laid a thin, withered hand on her brother's arm. "Hiram. I'm asroin to let that old - . t r . w blue hen hatch some chickens. I feel T 'Ain't -used her risrht : fur she hea wanted to setlots o' times. But allers stopped her quick ; you know she was my only company, an' I didn't want her off a-settin' an a-bringin up chickens. Ik I s'pose she's jest longed far them chicks." Then, a moment before the end, she spoke again : "Did Mandy got ashore all safe? Poor lit tle Mandy ; poor poor thing. "New York Independent. -. Secret ;3iflii3 of the Pullman- Porter. , 'Pullman car porters form on great secret society whose ritual differ oniy in a slight degree on separate systems," said Philip Welch, a travel ing man, at Willard's this morning. "You know the professional, tramps leave hieroglyphic information for ' those " of their guild who come after them on fences and gate posts along the roads they travel. Pullman por ters instruct each other about the traveling publio in much the same way. ' The means taken by the porters are simple but unerring. The favorite place in which they put their ciphers bo full of meaning is on the inside edge of a travelers' boot heels. Every patron of a Pullman inust, of course, place his footgear for a time at the mercy of the porter, and if such a traveler is wise ! in his generation and will: examine the heels of ' his shoes he ' ' will find a - nick . , here : and another there, which, if he can secure the translation of them, will tell him what the porter thinks of him. A nick in one part of the heel will mean that their wearer is a generous, open hearted man, and the porter who gets a pair of heels marked in such a way will fairly qver whelm their owner with attention. " A nick at another place will denote a crabbed, close and bad" tempered owner, and future porters who get gaiters bearing that informa tion will steer clear of their wearer. A spotter one of those individuals who are, employed by the .Pullman Company as spies on the conductors ' and porters is known ; by a' certain ' nick in. his heel, and you can bet the employes mind their p's and q's when such a heel is found ia 'thej portet's nightly aggregation of boots and shoes. The American railway porter is a pretty cute individual, I .tell ypu, , and when you see one of them partic ularly attentive to some one pasaen- ger, you can make a bet that his heels bear the proper cabalistic marks. Washington Star,'. . " . ' . ,. x 1894. X " BLIND" LETTERS IJOW THE DIFFERENT NATIONS KXCIIANGE THEt Onr Postal Employes Better at De ciphering Bad' Addresses Than 1 Those Abroad An Adept -at "Blind Beading. , T "X URING the last fiscal year, J ended June 30th, 1894, 590,-JL-' 662 letters from foreign lands' drifted into the Dead Letter Office at Washington. The individu als addressed being not discovered, nearly all of these missives had to be sent back to the countries whence they came. Yet the United States Postoffice is vastly ; more clever in finding people' than are the authorities abroad. Only a few days ago a letter dispatched from New York with the superscription, "Levi P. Morton, Paris, France," was returned, marked "Inconnu" i. e., "Unknown." Nev ertheless, the cx-Vice-Presid6nt was in the French capital at the time' at one of the great hotels. , -The foreign authorities seem to be stupid about such ; things. Letters from the United States addressed; to Walter Besant or to Algernon Swin burne, "England," are , sent back, marked "Insufficient address." One might suppose that English' peoph? would know about their own . famous literary men. It used to be the Bama way with Charles Reade and Robert Browning. An American child's letter to "Santa Clans, , Har tz Mountains, Germany,"-, was returned with "Un known," "Not found" and "Insuffi cient address" stamped all over it by seventeen postmasters. ' , , At Christmas time every year chil dren write letters to Santa Claus and mail them, usually unstamped. If a foreign address is given the missive ia dispatched in the mails, the rules of the International Postal Union not re quiring prepayment. Eventually it finds its way back to the Foreign Di vision of the Postoffice Department here. If it contains a petition from some poor child for a small gift" the employes of the office will occasional ly play Santa Claus, making up . a purse to buy the article requested. ; Comparatively few of the foreign letters which reach the Dead Letter Office here oan bo 'delivered to the person addressed, because it is not al lowable to open them. If one of them is opened when received, it is sealed with a special stamp, which looks something like an ordinary postage stamp, bearing the words: "Postoffice Department; officially sealed." Ihe first stamp of this kind that was is sued had the words "post obitum" on it, meaning "after death." A speci-' men is worth to-day $10- Thosealing stamps are hard to get and are in de mand by collectors. , ' The letters from abroad which have failed of delivery on account of badly written addresses are handled by ex perts who exhibit wonderful skill .ia deciphering them. . Miss Clara; Rich ter, in charge of the foreign division, is a famous hand at such work. The spelling on some of the- envelopes is amazing. For example, "Susanmeri" is'( intended for Sault " Ste. Marie. This i is a comparatively easy one. "Schineseham, Toulocontus" is Chi nese 7 Camp, Tuolumus .County. "Grym Pantewnia" is meant for Green Point ' ave. Memory is an important element in "blind reading," as this work is called. - Miss Richter got hold of a letter the other day with ' a peculiar name and nothing else on it except "America," She remembered that twenty years or more ago a person of that name had tbeen found' at Grand Rapids, Mich. The letter was for warded to that point and reached the intended recipient. On one occasion the local postoffice of Washington did not know how to deliver a letter . ad dressed to "Tesevero General e Na cion. " It was advertised as for "Gen eral Ttsserero," Miss Richter . per ceived at once that it was for the Treasurer of the United States. ' It was registered- aad contained a' con siderable amount of nioiiev. -All undeliverable foreign letters are done up in bags or rather parcels and sent" back once a week to the prin cipal European countries anc to Canada. These "returns," ' as thev are called, comprise .all mail matter ' received at the Dt?;'. Letter 0.1. j here NO. 18. durinsr the previous . week. But to Whe other nations in the Postal UnipV tdead stuff is returned only once . monfifev Tne United States Govern-; ment excftnSe8 unclaimed V matter with' eightyTen countries and colonies. J Neork 1,000,000 foreign pieces of mail come2 our Dead Lei' ' ter Office annually. ' A man7 of these are printed publication mos.of which are . thrown , away,. ancN ra turned. . , v All printed matter received at tuw Dead Letter Office from Canada, Great v nrinin. Germanv. Switzerland, South American countries and Australasia is destroyed in accordance (.with special agreement. Most of this stuff con. sists bf newspapers and trade circulars. The countries mentioned do the same with similar msiter that reaches them irom the United States, but France, Italy, Russia, Spain, .Portugal, Nor way, Sweden, Denmark and' Belgium want every bit of their printed mat ter back, and it is returned to them. ' During the last fiscal year 59,935 par- eels and printed publications and circulars were returned.. - - ' In the same way we get our dear matter back from foreign countries weekly from some, . monthly from others.' The ."returns", sent to, na amounted last year to 241, 779 pieces only a little more than one-third as many as we forwarded to Govern ments abroad. Philadelphia Times. . A New Giraffe. , ' The new giraffe,' the Bkin of which ,has been carefully secured and brought to England, is distinguished by a com plete and whole body coloring of rich; bright chestnut, scarcely separable by very fine, ' almost invisible, lines of rcreamy white of hexagonal and sexa- gonal Bhape. . .In the. Hotttn auicuu species, as indeed in the giraffe found in the Soudan regions of North Africa, which is indistinguishable from . its South African cousin,, the markings are widely and dearly defined; s comparison at once shows how com pletely the new Smaliland variety dif fers from any form hitherto xouna. ; At a short distance the new, guzua must appear as entirely of one color. Every hunter of,. giraffes in South Africa is well aware how, even at con siderable distances, the striking mot tling of the. camelopard are visible to the eye. In other characteristics, suck as shape and confirmation, . the new giraffe seems to differ little from tho old ; but the extraordinary difference In marking and distribution of colo ine are at all events sufficient to war rant the establishment :- by zoologists -A a new variety perhaps even a ner species. Major Wood and his party seem have sighted at least seven diner ent specimens of this new giraffe ; but. until further skins- and a complete skeleton are brought home, the au thorities of the Zoological Society and the Natural History Museum will prob ably wait before assigning an exact title to this interesting form. Giraffes have long been imposed from Northeast Africa chiefly frons the Soudan. region and skins have been brought home by hunters from South Africa and the interior. The mottled hides of these creatures' are well known. It is strange, indeed, t. have waited so far into the nineteenth century before discovering this new and singularly marked variety. Sat urday Review, t . ... . : . Peculiarities of Meerschaum. ., i "A great many people are under the impression thaithe substance of which a meerschaum is made Is washed up by the sea," says C. E. Carter, of Terre Haute. "I suppose they got that idea from the word, .which signifies sea froth, but really the name originated from the fact that the clay, when dry, will float on the surface of the. water, and then appears like white, foamy bubbles.' This clay is taken from be"U in the solid earth. "In its primitive state it is white and i'soft, . and yoa can cut it like cheese. It is fouudfehiefly ia Turkey and Hungary. . .When, the .bovrls of these pipes , are new they look very much like, ivory, but in usin. they gradually change into a mo.ilow brown color, on account of the oil of the to bacco being absorbed by Oiem in th ? process of burning."; 'ofc. Louis Globo Democrat. It is said t!- 800 mil'cs o j ;IWsj c:; pa electHa t ) be Vr" rr .3 way, H. J.