North Carolina Newspapers

FOR GOD. FOR COUNTRY AND FOR TRUTH." $1.00 a ycarin advance. VOL. VI. PLYMOUTH; N. C, FRIDAY, DECEMBER 7, 1891. NO. 23. AW Fletcher Ausbon,EdiUr arid Manager. A SONG FOR THAN KSOV VINO. A fow Into ro9 linger and smiling dcok the And the world is like a ploture whore tho Imrvesls smile to God ( There's a srrenter Joy in living for no bless ing Qe denies. And the soni's divine thanksgiving drifts in incense to the skies I , Through the darkness and the danger through the peril of the past, To the stnrred and etormless haven He has led our ships at last, And with richest treasures laden we have furled the flag above, 'dvt the garlands of Hl glory and the ban ners of His love! Sing sweet thy sweet Thanksgiving, O.Soul ! and ring ye bells, Till the world shall catch the chorus and the anthem heavenward swells ! For His love and for His mercy for His -, . cross and chastening rod, Tor His tender benediollons, lot the whole world thank its God ! F. L. Stanton. A Double Thanksgiving X HELEN POBREST GBAVE3. EARS to me," isaid Miss Hepsy Peabody, "that the weather's colder'n when I was a gal. Things is chang in' yes, they be!" And an odd, complacent smile crept - around the cor nets of her month, as she stood on the doorstep, a 'faded, three-cornered shawl pulled over her head, and her calico skirts blowing in the keen No vember wind. Cautiously she crept along the line of the fence, cowering behind the , leafless gooseberry bashes, like some escaping criminal. " 'Tain't daybreak yet," said she to herself, ."but Deacon Cooper is an aw fnl early riser I" . . She paused beneath, the shadow of a rickety old barn, where the wisps of nay protruded through the starting boards, as you sometimes fee a child s yellow hair rioting through the craoks oi us ragged straw nat. .tier xeen ear had caught a squeaking sound. - "I knowed it!" muttered Miss Hepsy. "That mink trap was always a master good thing to ketch! And the hinges ain't got rusted yet. My 1 I do wonder what the deaoon'll f say ?" For there, with its parti-colored wings flopping wildly, and one foot firmly caught in the iron teeth of the trap, was Deacon Cooper's biggest turkey gobbler. Miss Hepsy captured it in an in stant, loosing the metallic grip with a deft movement of one hand, while with the other she silenced the croak ing sounds in the folds of her apron. "Be still, you creetur 1" she mut tered, energetically. "I guess I've got you at last, arter all them young daylia plants you , scratched up and the strorberry runners you ruined, for me, And Deacon Cooper standin' up for 't that it was my fences to blame t Fences, indeed ! when there warn't no fence between here an' the Connecti cut State line but you could fly over easy as winkin'. I guess I'll hev a Thanksgivin' dinner now, and no stealin neither, for I hain't never for got them y oung ducks o' mine that the deacon's city nephew shot, makin' out he didn't know but what they was wild game, and the deacon never offenn' to pay f or , 'em. The lawj wouldn't do nothin' to help me, bein' they was swimmin'. in the deaoon's pond, but I'll be my own law this time. I set the trap to ketch the weasels, and if the deacon's gobbler's walked into it, 'taint no fault o' mine." Fifteen minutes afterward, the de . capitated fowl lay on Miss Hepsy's kitchen table. "It's pretty tough," said she, "but I guess I can par-bile it an give it a -good long spell in the oven. I'll change a hank o'.that blue yarn for a part o' Mrs. Miller's cranberries, an . I'm 'most sure Desire Hawkins '11 let me hev a handful o her summer savory to flavor the stuffin'. Widde Hall's got more pumpkins than she knows what to do with, and Sarah Skimmer'll be glad to exchange a peck of apples for some o' that crochet lace I did. last week. Eless . me ! I hain't had no ' Thanksgivin dinner , for a dozen good year not since mother died but it all comes back to me now as handy as rollin off a log." ."Why Miss Hepsy !" "Land o Goshen, Dulcie Cooper, is that you?" , . Quicker than lightning Miss Hepsy flung her apron over the defunct tur key gobbler and interposed her gaunt form between the kitchen table and the door, in which, framed like some Jovoiy Gainsborough . picture, stood a blue eyed young girl, with yellow hair raffled by the frosty wind and an old fashioned red and blue shawl wrapped around her. "Miss Hepsy," said the girl, quick ly,. and with a certain tremulouBness Ctf accent, ''don't don't you need some one to help you? I'd oome for uiy board only. Please, please don't ay no!". "Why," stammered the spinster, "I was caloulatin' to clean house and fix up things a little, but- what on earth does this mean, Dulcie ? You an' your pa hain't had words, have you? Again?" ' o "Yes, we have!" said Dulcie Coop er, breathing quicker than ever- "I told father this morning that I was going to be married" (turning her rosebud of a face to one side as she spoke), "and he twitted me with in gratitude for going off to 'leave him after all the schooling I'd had. And I'm sure he never paid a cent for it. And he said I. wasn't a good house keeper, because some one neglected to look the fowl house last night, and the biggest gobbler is lost this morning-" ' "La!" interjected Miss Hepsy. "And so," went on - Dulcie, "I just told him to get some one else to cook and wash and scrub for him, and came away without my breakfast. And if I could only stay here until he comes for me-r-" "When's he.Jcomin'?" demanded Miss Hepsy. , - "I I don't quite know, but very o.u!" t j I X $ Thanksgiving Day A Transfer of Affections. . "Can you whitewash?" said Hepsy. "Yes," assented the girl. ' "And put on wall paper?" "Oh, yes! I've often repapered the old rooms at home 1" eagerly responded Dulcie. . s "Much of a hand at sewin'?" . "I oau do almost anything with a needle." : "Well, then," nodded Miss Peabody, "you can stay. I irant a new dress made silver-gray poplin and I must hev the best room whitewashed and papered new to-morrow. You needn't fear but what I'll give , you plenty to do, Dulcie Cooper." f - "A silver-gray poplin!" repeated Dulcie, her blue eyes hining. "Oh, Miss Hepsy " j "Yes," smiled the elder woman, not without a certain complaoency, "you've guessed it. I m goin to be married, too." . ".Really?" . "He wits an old beau o' mine thirty year ago, " confessed Miss Hepsy ; "but? Betsy Barnes she was killed in a rail road accident Centennial year she made misohief . betwixt us. So when I seen his name in a newspaper, I just up and writ to him, and invited him here for Thanksgivin',' and he sent back word he'd come. So of course But run, Duloie, and drive that cow outer the garden. I must get the gate pin fixed." . "That's the reason she's got her poor old gray hair up in crimps," thought pretty Duloie, as she waved her sun bonnet to frighten the oow away. "And a new set of teeth ! Well, I de clare, if that ain't our bid Mooley I I don't wonder Miss Peabody is always complaining. Father didn't do quite the right thing by her . about those ducks that Billy Porter shot ; and our fowls always scratching up her gar den. -Poor, dear Miss Hepsy! I do wonder who can possibly want to marry her?" . For blue-eyed Dulcie was only eighteen, with hair like corn -silk and dimples in either cheek. And Miss Hepsy was fifty-odd and had only just begun to put her scant tresses up in crimping pins and wash her wrinked skin in buttermilk of nights. Why should she? Until now she had not cared to look younger or prettier than she was. ; When Duloie came back, breathless and blooming, the turkey gobbler was locked into the cellar cupboard, and Miss Hepsy was slacking a pail of lime, in readiness for the whitewashing operations. . ' "Because," said she, "we hain't no time to lose!"- Dulcie was kept too busy to talk, what with wall paper, whitewash brushes, and the breadths of ; the silver-gray poplin, which, unhappily, proved to be such a scant pattern that nothing short, of magical ingenuity sufficed to make it into a suitable dress.' " ""But why didn't you buy two or three more yards?" said Dulcie. "I hadn't no more money," said Miss Hepsy. "Besides," a little un wittingly, "it b sort o guess work, afttr Ur . . , , . , "Why? Hasn't he asked you to marry him?" . "We kept company thirty years ago," Miss Peabody evasively answered. "And if Betsy Barnes hadn't meddled but, of course,' it's just the same. He's to be here Thanks givin' Day." And she looked sidewise at her gray crimps, v - Dulcie gazed with pitying glance at the elderly maiden. "Everything , changes in thirty years," she thought. "Even a man's heart ! How can she talk about things being 'just the same !' "Is this the turkey?" she said, aloud. "Oh, what a beauty ! Where did you get it?" "It is a pretty tol'able fat one," said Miss Hepsy, proudly. "And I made the stuffin' arter Grandma'am Gibson's receipt. Look, Dulcie, the puspkin's all billin'up. Do you sup pose you could bake a pie? I never wan't muoh of a hand at piecrust ; but I b'lieve everything else is ready for to-morrow. I do hope it ain't goin' to snow." . The old house wore its holiday as pect the afternoon before Thanksgiv ing. The new wall paper a trellis pattern, with big, impossible roses' blooming like red blobs all over it, re flected back the leaping blaze of the birch logs ; the ceiling winked whitely down at the brightly-scoured andirons. Dulcie had gone out to the woods to get some scarlet berries, which still hung on the pendent branches of the mountain ash trees, and a few balsam boughs, -to decorate the mantles and Miss Peabody, in her best blaok alpaca, out after the pattern of a bygone day, was polishing up the six silver tea spoons which had been her grand mother's bequest, when there came a knock at the door. . "TrampB !" was her first reflection. "Book agents !". the second. But it was neither one nor the oth er. It was a red-cheeked, black haired young man, with a traveling bag in his hand. . "You didn't expect me so soon?" said he. . Miss Hepsy stood with a teaspoon uplifted. "I didn't expect you at all," said she. "Who on earth be you?" "You invited me to visit you, and here I am!" he exolaimed, in some surprise. "Don't you know me Lorenzo Wingfield?" Some familiar aocent in the fresh young voice, some indescribable, like ness in the straight features, had furnished the clue almost ere he spoke. "Lorenzo Wingfield?" she re peated, vaguely. "You used to know my father," said he "my father, who died ten years ago and when you kindly wrote to me" "I didn't know there was any you," stammered Miss Hepsy. "I never heard o'. Lorenzo Wingfield marryin'. I s'posed I was a-writin' to him." She drew a quick, short breath. "But you're welcome, all the same. He's dead, is he? And nobody never let me know!" ' "And Duloie Cooper she lives near here ? You see, Miss Peabody, I met Duloie atDeephaven last sum mer. I couldn't help loving her, and I went back to Montana to make a home ready for her. Can you tell me where I shall find her?" "Why on earth didn't she tell me the name of the feller she was engaged to?" gasped Miss Hepsy. "Where'll you find her? Just look down the garden path, and you'll see her a-com-in' up it with both arms full o' red berries for Thantsgivin' Day." She turned her face resolutely away. She could not bear to witness the glad meeting between the two young lovers. "I'm sort o' left out in the cold," said she, with a dry sob in her throat. "No, I ain't, nuther!" Her face brightened at the Bight of Deacon Cooper, in his Sunday suit, coming up She garden path. , She. opened the door wide. "Come in, deacon," said she. "Set up to the fire and warm yourself. Drefful snowy feel in the air, ain't it?" "I ain't thinkin' nothin about the outside air," said the deacon, whose new gold - spectacles made him look portentously owlish. - It's here I feel toacoxafortable.' And he struck his butternut-colored vest across the fourth button. "Well, I declare !" said Hepsy. "I'd drttght to ha thought of it before. Yoj .will be lonesome Thanksgivin' Day I Hadn't you better come over and eat your dinner with us?" "Miss Hephsibah," said the deacon, "you're a dreadful forgivin creeter ! I ain't been the neighbor I'd ought to been to you. I ain't treated Duloinea quite as I should ha' done. But we're all poor errin mortals, Hepsy May I call you Hepsy?" ''I hain't no pa'ticular objection', said Miss Peabody, half smiling, as -a sweet young laugh sounded under the leafless lilaos in the garden out side. "It's a good Scriptur' name," said the deacon. -"It sounds sweet in my ears. I'm a lone, solitary man, an' you're a-livin here by yourself. . You ain't noways principled ag'in mar riage, be you?" He put his butternut-colored arm around Miss - Hepsy his spectacled eyes beamed tenderness. "Say you will be mine !" he mur mured. "I hain't no pa'tickler objection," Miss Hepsy answered. "Do lemme go, deacon ! Can't you smell that suet puddin' scorchin'?" So there were two weddings in the little church, before the Thanksgivin' sermon was preached, and the two brides hurried home to superintend the dinner. , "I. never was so astonished in my life," said Duloie. "It was so good of you, Miss Hepsy I mean, mother to prepare such a surprise for me !" The deacon's wife only smiled. The deacon declared he had never enjoyed a dinner so much. Little did he know its history ! "I'm afraid the turkey's a little tough," said Mra Cooper ; but" And she stopped just there ! Thanksgiving Dishes Abroad. A few years ago one of the diplo matic corps in Paris complimented some American visitors by giving a Thanksgiving dinner. He made some elaborate reseaches regarding our Na tional customs as applied to the day, land with the help of his chef offered among other things baked beans well thinned with custard and frozen. The crowning glory of the feast was a 'pumpkin pie. Its crust was shingly (puffed paste fully an inch thiok. The pumpkin was merely a filmy glaze jupon the paste, with a taffy-like con sistency that made it cling to the eat er's teeth. 1 The chef must have imparted the pecret of the National pie, at least in part to others of his craft, for a little later a well known restaur ater an nounced on a little placard at his es tablishment : "Bounkin pie a l'Amer icaine." In Berlin the traveler will find, if he is there in November, an addition to the menu at some places of refresh ftnent. The addition is a flourishing announcement to Americans that In dian puddings, bean puddings, pump kin tarts and other delicacies' which the waiter will affably say are for the American "Danksgiving." but which only resemble the originals they im itate as the mist resembles the rain. Foreign restaurants pride them selves upon catering to American cus tomers' tastes, but their translations are striking and worked out iabori- I ously from the dictionary. One Ber j lin hotel proudly put upon the menu, : "False hair stewed American fashion." ; It requires some penetration to dis ' cover that a dish of smothered beef, known to us as mock-rabbit, is meant. Willie, Wanted More Turkey. u "Hush, Willie, hush !" said Mr. Hicks to hib noisy wn as they sat at dinner. "You are noisy enough for faixboys." "Well, give ma turkey enough for three boys and I'll keep the others quiet," said Willie. And Was Detained. Mme. Gobbler "My children, I have sad news for you." ; The Little Gobblers "What?" ; Mme. Gobbler (breaking into sobs) k "Your poor, dear father Attended a Thanksgiving dinner yesterday." Foresight. fHfiip y i " That's the chap what was always a pokin' fun at me 'cause I kept from eatin all the stuff they gave me; I knowed what I was about. They couldn't fool me when Thanksgivia was ft comia" Life, WW- it. i i A Wm CLASS OF MEN. THET "WOKK TTP BUSINESS FOB THE BIGt CRIHXtfAXi T-AWTEBS. On Prisoner's Industry While Ac tually locked in the Tombs lie Marie a Great Deal qf Money. TC MONG the many curious ways of making a living in a great city like New York, perhaps (T the most curious is that of serving as a procurer to lawyers. Many criminal attorneys derive the greater part of their practice through men who daily frequent the polioe courts and other places where they are likely to secure cases to sell to their patrons. Supposing the case of a young man who has been arrested for assault. He appears in court next day, without counsel, and is reman'ded for a future hearing. A procurer, sitting on a front bench in the court room, has been an attentive listener to the pro ceedings, and, when the young man is taken back to prison, endeavors to communicate with him, so as to find out the names of the friends upon whom he can rely in his trouble. Fre quently the prisoner has friends pres ent in the court room, in which case the business is easily managed. An experienced procurer can tell who they are by their interested counten ance and whispered conversation when the prisoner is brought to the bar. To make their acquaintance is a sim ple matter. Then, by working upon their sympathies and insinuating him self into their confidence, he persuades them to contribute a specified sum toward the defense of their friend, ssrreeing to attend to all the details of the affair himself. If the prisoner has no friends in the court room when he is brought up for examination, it is a difficult mat ter to secure his case without the as sistance of an official of the prison. Procurers who understand their busi ness are never without influence in this direction. Having secured con trol of a case, the procurer's next move is to sell it to the lawyer who is willing to pay . him the largest com mission for obtaining it. So he goes about from lawyer to lawyer until he makes the best bargain he thinks is possible, and there his connection with the business generally ends. But if the case turns out to be one of im portance that is, if the prisoner ia held for trial he often obtains fur ther remuneration for hunting up witnesses, serving subpenas and engag ing in other work connected with it. One of the most successful procurera who ever did business in New York was a lawyer named Beavey, who a few years ago was under sentence to serve five years in State prison for embezzlement. His case had been ap pealed, and he was confined in the Tombs, awaiting the decision of the Court, when it occured to him that he might do a profitable business among prisoners by securing their cases for a friend of his, outside the prison, who was a shrewd criminal lawyer. A kind of partnership was entered into be tween the two, by which Reavey was to get a certain percentage on all business obtained by him inside the prison. This arrangement proved highly remunerative to Beavey, and with the money so made was enabled to procure himself many comforts while confined in the Tombs. He oonduoted his business in the follow ing manner : At the times appointed for the ex ercise of the prisoners he would oome out of his cell and begin to walk briskly around the corridor, ' peering into the faces of all the prisoners he passed. Presently his eyes would rest upon the face of a new arrival in the prison. Unless the man was a hard ened criminal, he would probably be in a very dejected mood, and stand sadly in need of sympathy. Beavey was prepared to give him an abun dance of it. Approaching him with a kindly smile, he would say : "Well, my friend, what brought you to this sad place?" If the prisoner were inclined to be suspicious, one glance at Reavey's benevolent face and elegantly dressed figure was sufficient to allay every doubt in his mind. It would not be long before Reavey had the full par ticulars of his story. ; If the crime for which the man had been arrested had been a small one, he would look grave and say that it was a very serious of fence, and that it would, require the services of a very skilful lawyer to keep the mara out of State Prison. In fact - there was no one whom he (Reavey) knew who was competent to manage such a case, but giving the name of his partner outside the Tombs: But if the crime were a grave ono, he would make light of it, saying encouragingly : "It certainly looks bad on the face of it, and the evidence would probably convict you ; but the case would be easy for a lawyer smart enough to take advantage of the technicalities of the law. Be advised by me and em ploy . He has got many a poor fellow out of a worse scrape than you are in." By employing these and other ,arts he succeeded ia getting considerable practice. His partner called upon him frequently in the Tombs, ostensibly to consult with him upon his own a(- rairs, but in reality to attend to the business of other prisoners. Reavey was finally removed to Sing Sing, which put an end to his money mak ing. .' ; :' '' One of the shrewdest procurera now operating in this city is a young man of broken fortune, who was formerly ono of the shining lights of the "Ten derloin" precinct. .He calls himself . an accident agent, and devotes his en tire attention to hunting up accident oases for his patrons.' His business is conducted on systematic principles? He . breakfasts every morning at 8 o'clock, and, while sipping his coffee, searches the newspapers carefully for notices of injuries or accidents to per sons living in or near the city. At 9 o'clock he starts out to go the rounds' of the hospitals to ascertain if any accident cases have been received ia them since his visit of the day before. As he has made it a point to be on friendly terms with some one in an- ... thority in most 'of the hospitals, he. finds no difficulty in getting the infor mation he desires Whn he has found a case of acci dental injury, and ascertained the name and address of the unfortunate her, through friends, ' or in person, and if he discovers that' the accident wan due to the negligence of others, oilers to recover damages without cost to the injured, for half the amount of -the Bum recovered. If his proposition , is accepted he takes the cases to any lawyer who will pay him a fair com misrtion, and then turns his attention to hunting up witnesses and securing other evidences for the plaintiff Now York Press. - , MiESiinu ami iJswusiniAw : Cinnamon kills the typhus microbe. Children's first teeth have a great . effect upon the second set. i Soap is one of the best known steri lizers of water suspected of infection. - Substitute for glass is made from collodion wool and is ' flexible, nof brittle. . ., ' The fiber ol nettle weea is Deing used in the manufacture "of textile fabrics. . , - s ' The phosphorescence sear the Cape Verde Islands is at times so bright that one can easily read the smallest print. ' j Spontaneous combustion occurs ia many substances because during fer mentation heat is evolved and inflam mable gases are engendered. , 1 A closed room is bad for sleeping,, because air once breathed parts with a sixth of its oxygen, and contains an equivalent' amount of carbonic gas. The Franoe Militaire says that the French and Spanish Governments haw agree i to the boring of two railway tunnels through the Pyrenees to con nect the two countries at Saint Chiron and at Oloron. , ; ' It is estimated that 12,000,009 tons of coal are used for gas making annn ally in England. . A. train cf coal wagons three miles long, each wasoa holding a ton, would be required to bring into London the Coal for an hour's supply of gas. ; That lizards will catch and eat but terflies is stated by Jane Frazer in an article in a London entomological journal. In the Samoan Islands she saw a , "skipper" butterfly when lighted caught and instantly swallowed by a beautiful golden-green lizard with a bright blue tail. A living specimen of the largest and most deadly snake known (Ophiop hagus elaps) has been added to the Zoological Gardens of. London. It grows twelve to fourteen feet in length, and is hooded like the cobra. It occurs in India, Burma and in tb.3 East Indian Archipelago, living in for ests and jungles and readily climbing trees. : I ' ; ' , ; ' :S: - It has been discovered that mi crobes capable of germination exist ia the ocean every where except at great depths. They seem to be more plen tiful in the Canary, Florida and Labrador currents than elsewhere, and are not detected in the ocean bed. They are, ' however, plentiful at a depth of 1300 feet,; and are found as far down as 3500 feet certainly deep enough for all practical purposes. Some of these microbes are phospho rescent, and are found on the bodiea of living fish. A Wild Ride on a Deer. Dr. and Mrs. Derby, of Riversida, were guests of Mr. and Mrs. J. T. . Leonard, of Moreno, recently. Dr. Derby is an expert hunter, and when Mr. Leonard mentioned (that there were deer in the hills back of hi.5 ranch his friend was eager for a hunt. ,Aftar tramping the Mils for several hours they started a deer. The doc tor fixed and the animal dropped. Elated over the prospeot of havin' killed a deer the hunter palled hia knife, threw his leg over the ammd and grasped one of its horns. No sooner had the knife pricked the skia than it jumped to its feet and etattei bounding over the grade, the at toa ished hunter on its back. Mr. Leonard at last found hia fried in a sumaobnsh, head downward, Ui clothes tattered aad o torn. It ioemi' thai the shot had only stunaed tl i buck, and tho vtic?: oftl.a ki.if.ir-.nl revived it. -