. , . ; . . . . - . -
$ I. oo a Year, In Advance. FOR GOD, FOR COUNTRY, AND FOR TRUTH.' Single Copy, 5 Cents.
VOL. XIII. ; ' PLYMOUTH, N. C.FRIDAY, APRIL 4, 1902. NO. 4.
CLEAR
In boyhood days we used to go.
When winter winds blew chill,
With ruddy cheeks and nimble feet,
. To coast down Martin's Hill.
And from each speeding single sled ,
Or double-runner's load,
' The frosty air was rent in twain
"s With shouting "Clear the road!" '
Like arrows from a bow of steel,
Teeth set and eyes aglow,
We sped the length of Martin's HO
Across the glist'ning snow.
There was no halting on the way.
No one steered out or "slowed;"
,We sped like mad down Martin's Kill,
Arid shouted "Clear the road!"
wowah j?isroses
BY HATTIE HORNER LOUTHAN.
f
am
SPSS
II AT are you going to
do about .Mignon, Er
nest?" asked Guy Ed
gertou, glancing across
the breakfast table to where bis half
brother sat inimersed In the cotton
reports of the Picayune.
jl arnsworin nrtea ms uarii, quesuon
ing eyes, but reached for his coffee
cup. in silence.
"Yes, what Co you intend doing
about her?" persisted the other, petu
lantly. "Mr. Durande thinks It any
thing but wise to bring an unsophisti
cated girl here, now that mother is
dead and we fellows arealone. School
closed last week, you know, and I won
dered what you had concluded to do."
"Durande be hanged!" returned his
companion, irreverently. "What has
he to do with our affairs? Oh', you and
Mignon! I wonder you dare breathe
without the parson's sanction!" And
he went back to his market reports.
The younger man finished his break
fast In silence, then he arose, found
his hat, and made another attempt,'
his hand on the door knob.
"I say. Ernest, will you pry your
mln1 onror vm rttfMi anrl cti rvo 1 1 rr op
enough to answer my question? It's
deuced cold-blooded, the way ru'vo
shut the little one up in that old con
vent and forgotten her existence, and
she feels cut up about it, too. Now
Pierre is going to take me back into
the city, and I could bring her back if
Mr. Durande- " 4
"There are neither 'ifs' nor Mr. Du
randes at Farnsworth Hall under the
present -administration." broke in the
elder brother, decidedly. "Certainly
bring her, for come she shall. Why
not? ... Am I not her legal guardian? Is
she not a mere child yet? Have we
not a housekeeper? And are we not
gentlemen, the sons of our mother?
You might confide to the ' reverend
gentleman that either one of us un
aided is capable of protecting an unso
phisticated girl from all men "
"Except ourselves!" end Guy, laugh
ingly. 1
Farnsworth looked up quickly, a
shade of annoyance deepening his fine
eyes. '
"Except no one," he returned, sharp
ly, 'and see that you understand me,
sir, uun , in iub ,uegiuuiuj;. '
The boy Nourished Ws hat gaily.
"Avaunt, croaker!" he cried. . "Back
to your cotton and sugar! If you im
agine Guy Edgton, aged twenty and
just out of military jackets, intends
'driving all the way from the city,
within the radiance of . those violet'
eyes, without stealing a kiss or two
from that baby mouth "
lie laughed merrily, then, banging
the door, wont whistling o2 toward the
stables.
. Ernest Farnsworth pushed back his
unfinished breakfast, dashed down his
paper and began walking the floor.
Cotton and sugar, indeed! was the boy
blind? Ah, those violet eyes, that baby
mouth how many, many times they
had risen between him and the printed
page, between him and "sleep, between
him and the memory of his mother's
still, white face! Now that she was
coming to the Hall, could he continue
to blind his brother, the friends, the
girl herself? Perhaps the . clergyman
was right. Perhapa it was unwise sp
nave her there.
V
Mignon came to Farnsworth Hall
to remain until school should reopen
in the fall. The younger brother was
her escort upon, all occasions, under
chaperonage, of course. Her vacation
was rapidly passing, and Farnsworth
had kept rigorously away from her
"W
THE ROADI
Then one by one we put away
The much-beloved sled,
And journeyed forth into the world,
Ambition s paths to tread.
We bade good-bye to Martin's Hill
And youthhood'a sweet abode,
And shouted in an undertone . .
For men to "Clear the road!"
We found along the paths of trade
rJ-Rther Martin's Hill;
vith men at break-neck pace acoast,
With voices loud and shrill
Who never halted on their way
Where fortune's fancies elowed.
Who shouted loud from morn till night
That. warning, "Clear the road!
Joe Cone, an the New York Sun.
and tois duties in field or library, or
at the militia barracks, for he was a
soldier.
She was secure under this arrange
ment, ho kept telling himself, and ap
peared happy. But she seemed half
afraid of him since becoming his
charge. For so young a man he was
unapproachable, decisive, even stern
upon occasion. It was necessary he
should be in the management of so
large a plantation. .
Yes, Farnsworth had a fancy that
his little ward had, grown to fear him.
Very good: let it rest at ' that. He
would nurse this very safe fancy.
Yet once and again throughout the va
cation, across the dining room table-
about their only meeting- place he
had caught occasional fleeting glances
from the. violet eyes, wistful, Inquiring
glances that cost him sleep, to say
nothing of time wasted in day dream
ing. For another" fancy was growing
upon him, a fancy not quite so safe
as the one that she feared him, a fancy
that needed no nursing. lie began to
wonder if And then he suddenly
recollected that the present adminis
tration recognized no "ifs."
Fate took matters ia her own hands
in an unexpected manner.
One evening toward the close of va
cation Farnsworth' whs passing the
parlor when he heard his name called
in frightened appeal. Swinging open
the door he saw Mignon, pale and in
dignant, struggling from his brother's
arms.
Guy whirled about fiercely at the In
terruption, but Farnsworth1 went
straight to the sobbing girl.
"What has he been saying what in
sult has he offered you, petite? Tell
me and I will punish him."
"Always to be his wife," was all he
could catch among her sobs.
"And that is no insult," proudly, as
serted her youthful suiter., '
"But," she sobbed, turning the im
ploring blue eyes from one to the other,
"your mother assured me that I need
not be any one's wife for years and
years yet; that you would both take
care of me and be kind to me, and you
are not, Guy, for you are always "
She clasped her guardian's hand and
was silent.
"For shame, Edgerton!" ' protested
Farnsworth, putting his arm.proteet
ingly about her shoulders. "For shame
to urge such matters upon this child!
Give the little thing her girlhood, can't
you? She is so young, a mere school
girl yet, a very infant."
"A mere coquette, a very deceiver!"
cried her lover, hotly. "Why does she
accept my escort, and wear the gowns
I admire, and kee: my roses and allow
me to kiss her hands? She very well
knows what such things mean to a
man; she is old enough for that! . And
why doe3 she look at mc so why will
she look so, if she. does not mean "
"Be silent, sir!" commanded his
brother with stern emphasis, trying at,
the same time to soothe the weeping
Mignon. "Remember I am absolute
master of you both for some time to
come, and I shall shut you up in you
individual schools the year through if
I hear another-word about this marry
ing nonsense. There, there, my child,"
taking his own handkerchief and wip
ing away the girl's tears, 4,he will keep
his place from how, I promise you.
He is just your big brother, as am I,
and he will continue to be until -you
wish him to become something nearer.
Henceforward you have two brothers
who will take care of you and be kind
to you. Go to your room now, and to
sleep, for It is late. Wait, Edgerton,
I'll have a further word with you." "
After his "word" with his brother
Farnsworth went to his library, lighted
a cigar' and flung himself down upon
a divan. , , '
Fow lovely she was, and how tempt
ing! Unconsciously so, doubtless, but
tempting . for all that. In his man's
heart he could not censure the boy,
considering the close companionship
of the two all the long summer, and
the charming-Innate coquetry of the
girl's acts and glances, of course, but
construed by his brother into inten
tional encouragement. Yet he, the
guar"dian, felt unreasoningly angry
with both, though neither was to
blame certainly not the boy
He sprang from the divan and began
hurriedly to walk the floor. A shaded
lamp burned dimly on his open desk,
and this was why, even Jn his walk,
he did not at once discover the small
figure in the deptji of his great chair
before the open window. When he did
see her he thought her asleep, and tip
toeing softly his desk, sat with shaded
eyes and suspended, breath gazing at
the picture she made framed' in the
dark plush of the chair.
Why had she not gone to her room,
as he had bidden her, instead of com
ing here? ' Had she come to escape
Guy's importunities? Did she not
know that the boy had gone to the city,
gone in a frenzy of rebellion against
him, Farnsworth?
Sudd'nly she turned toward him,
rested her ohin upon her arms, and
lifted her glance to some point beyond
him. , Her eyes shone like stars, her
little curved mouth was re'd as wine.
She looked for all the world like one
of Raphael's cherubs, dimpled nd
winged and innocent.
Farnsworth picked up his pen and
began writing, rapidly. As he sat thus,
his pen dashing along with aimless
haste, he could feel his pulses quicken
warmly from the sense of , her pres
ence, and the rigorous resolutions to
which he had clung during the long va
cation began to fall away. His steady
hold upon himself threatened to fail
him. .
It occurred to him, however, that he
could not sit thus all night. He laid
aside his cigar, strode over to the win
dow and stood looking down at Mig
non.
"Did you know that he is gone?" he
asked.
"Yes, monsieur," she answered, de
murely, and without taking her eyes
from the -nnint. beyend his detk.
"And that even though he were here
he would not annoy you?"
"Then why are you "
She nestled down in the, chair in a
kittenish fashion, interrupting with a
little coaxing note in her voice
"Let me stay, Ernest, while you
write. I I want to!"
Farnsworth gasped. She had never
before called him by his given name.
In the interests of future discipline it
would never do to permit such liber
ties with him, the iron-hearted soldier,
master of Farnsworth Hall, her ap
pointed guardian it would never do!
"You are a wayward girl," he ob
served coldly. "I have set your would
be suitor a severe penance, and now
I mean to punish you for disobeying
niy .explicit order. I am accustomed
to unquestioned obedience." , 1
One swift uplift of the sweet eyes
before they overflowed and were hid
den, but that instant had been long
enough for him to read what? The
pen-shaft splintered ia his nervous
grasp, and his brother's words kept
beating upon his brain:
"Why does she look at ne so? Why
will she look so if she does not mean
Ah, but there were no "ifs" in the
Farnsworth lexicon! Ho and his broth
er were two distinct individuals; she
must learn that.
"Well, what are you crying about?"
he questioned. "I am letting you
stay."
"But you are cross," she sobbed.
"You are ahvays cross." '
"And you are always crying," he re
torted, in a tone he knew was any
thing but severe. "I suppose crying
is natural to infants." Whereupon she
sobbed afresh. "I wish I could be
cross," he said half tenderly, but turn
ing aside that she might not see bis
entile. "I sent you to bed once, and
you did not obey. Now, for punish
ment, I ought "
She shrank into the far corner of
the chair, clutching at the plush arm
as though she feared he. might forcibly
remove her. He laughed ia spite of
himself. What a very child she was!
But she wept the more. lie bent over
her.
"Are you crying because I have sent
Guy away?" ,
"No,", came faintly from th? covered
face. ' -
"Is it because you do not want him
to be merely a brother to you?"
"But I do, I do!" she exclaimed with
tremulous eagerness, lifting her head.
Those eyes, those lips surely this
was no longer the face of a child, but
a woman's, wistful, irresistibler'-Ks)
was on his knes-before the chair now,
his arms creeping .about her..
"Why, then, the tears?"
It was a demand, not a question.
"Because" a little laugh bubbled up
among the sobs-r"you think I need
two brothers, when one- "
She ended in an incoherent murmur
in the folds of his coat, but even when
he lifted her face and took her hands
from It she did not complete her sen
tencefor a most excellent reason.
Waverley Magazine. '
.ASYLUM FOR INSANE INDIANS.
It Has Just Been Built at Canton, S. D.,
and Will Ee Opened Soon. '
The National Indian Asylum, the
onfy institution of the kind in the
world, will soon be opened to the de
mented members of the red tribes of
America. The necessity of an asylum
for the care and treatment of insane
Indians exclusively became especially
apparent to the citizens of South Da
kota, because of their proximity to the
reservations.
It is well known that feeble minded;
demented and insane Indians,, as well
as the aged and infirm, receive little
care and attention from their relatives
or tribesmen. A crazy Indian is uni
versally regarded by' his brethren as
good as a dead Indian. '
These conditions induced Senator
Pettigrew to take up the work of se
curing an' appropriation from Con
gress to. build an asylum for, the in
sane, and in 1S09 a bill was indorsed
by Congress ordering the construction
of an Indian asylum building at or
near Canton, S. D. The appropriation,
at first 45,000, was afterward in
creased to $C0,000.
A site of 100 acres was bought for
$3000, and the building contract was
awarded to Pelton & Co., of Milwau
kee, for. $52,500. The building is a fine
one. Pressed brick form -the walls,
trimmed with white stone, the whole
building roofed with slate. The struc
ture is in the form of a Maltese cross,
H4 feat long and 144 feet wide in the
centre. '
The capacity of the building is cev-enty-five
inmates. Many have said
that there were not seventy-five insane
Indians in the United States, but there
is every indication that within a year
the Canton asylum will be unable to
accommodate all the applicants.
Canal lioats In ranila.
The easy-going native bargemen of
Manila Bay will experience something
like surprise when, a few months
hence, they see towed into the harbor
nineteen Erie Canal boats, sent by the
Philippine Transportation , Company.
Fcr several years these barges have
been in use on the Erie Canal. Now
they have been towed over to the
Morgan Iron Works, at Ninth street
and the East River, where they are
being carefully pulled apart prepara
tory to shipping them to the Orient.
Piece by piece the decks are pulled
up, beams and timbers separated and
piled up on the pier, ready to be
stowed away into the holds of huge
steamers, there to remain until once
more put together in Hong Kong.
From there they will be towed across
the China Sea, down the Luzon coast
and into Manila harbor. Larga
steamers cannot approach within, two
miles of the shoro in Manila Bay. For
this reason, it has always been neces
sary to send out cascos, or lighters, in
which the cargoes are transported up
the Pasig River to the citj. These
cascoes arc small and clumsy, and are
owned by individual natives, who will
not; work until their . supply of cash
runs short. The iron "canal boats are
capable of holding five or six times
more cargo than any casco, and tha
nineteen together could put all tho
cascoes "of Manila harbor into their
holds. New York Tribune.
Ecotch Crouse ia lruaia.
The acclimatization' of the Scotch
grouse in Silesia, on the East Prus
sian crown moors, and on the Eiffel
has proved so successful that in the
last-mentioned district a thousand
birds are now seen where thirteen,
months ago there was not a-s'ngle
one. The experiment is to be repeated
ia other Prussian provinces.
SAM- kjLO QUESTION.
Wien wmtry winds are high and sliri'J
nd liortas tunes hi3 Arctiei lyre.
Tb't comex the question, vexing still,
Who shall et up to light the fire?'
In summer's droo'ny, slumbrous days
It seemed an id. useless question;
But now, alas! no chtruit haze '
Obscures the pertinent suggestion.
When hubby in his household bower
tlliz Aovra. to smoke and save tho nation.'
He nndfc.he cannot speed the hour
With delruZjory conversation.
His loving wife is very teen
To bring the matter to aSfocua,
And, with but half an eye, 'iii jeen
She's "proof 'gainst any hocus-poc'".
.' ' - .;'"x-'
Is in a state at least precarious.
That chilly floors bring on a wealiTa
Of troubles and diseases various. .
lie melt3 beneath her cold blue eye,
In which he sees the rising ire, . s
And that's the same old reason why
He will get up to light the fire.. . "
Chicago Netty.
"She has found her life work at
last." "What is it?" "Married a man
to reform him." Philadelphia Bulle
tin. "George, dear, what did you ever
see in me that made you want te
marry me?" "I'm blest if I know,
darling' Chicago Tribune.
Simple Simon went a-fishing
For to catch a trout; ; '
lie SDied a sisn. "No Fiahiner Here."
And there pulled sixty out!
Brooklyn Life.
, Tommy "Pop, what are counter
charges?" Tommy's Pop "Counter
charges; my son, are the results of
your mother's shopping . tours."
Philadelphia Record. v .
Mrs. Growells "My husband is con-
tinually quarrelling about trifles."
Mrs. Howells "Well, my dear, the
less one has to quarrel about the bet
ter." Chicago News.
This world as it goes moving on
With foliy oft seems busy; '
Perhaps it whirls around so fast ?
That men have all grown dizzy, v
Washington Star.
"Why do you call the fast bicycle
rider a scorcner?" "Because he goes
at a hot pace, makes pedestrians
boiling mad, warms up "the police, gets
roasted in court and then thinks the
whole- thing is a burning shame."
Tit-Bits. : '
A: country doctor was once riding;
over a wild stretch of down and asked
the lonely shephe.rd how he managed
to get medical assistance for his wife
in the isolated cottage where they
lived. "Well, sir," replied the shep
herd, in all good faith, "we d wun't
ha no doctor; we just dies a n'at'ral
death." Tit-Bits. : . r
A burglar whoso night entry Into
the parsonage awakened the sleepless,
pastor, said to his helpless victim:
"If you L stir you're a dead man! I'm
hunting for money!" "Just let me get
up and strike a light," pleasantly re
plied the dominie, "and I shall be
triad to assist vou ir thp sparrh." .
Boston Watchman.
"Gracious!" exclaimed Mr. Phamll
man to his spouse, "we've had so much,
rain lately, I do hope we won't have
any more for some time." "I'll tell
you how you can make sure of it.
pa," said the bright little uoy. ,"Just
gimme a quarter to save up for
rainy day, and I'll bet there won't be
one for a year." Philadelphia Press.
Mrs. Query "Isn't she a member of
your ciud.' Airs. uauaDoui iot any
more. We had to get rid of her, or
she would have disorganized us."
Mrs. Query "You don't say?" Mrs.
Cadabout "Yes. At one of our ses
sions we were discussing the servant
gii-1 question, and she' said the best
way to solve the problem was; for all
of us to-stay home and do our own
work." Philadelphia Press.
A Brutal Sport.
It is difficult to conceive of anything;
more .shockingly brutal than the
slaughter of pigeons as they are hurled
in the air by a spring from a trap. Th&
pigeon is the embodiment of grace
and gentility. It is about the most
harmless and inoffensive thing In all
the animal creation. There is nothing:
manly or sportsmanlike in killing or
maiming the trapped flutterers as they
attempt to give their wings to the air
and seek freedom after imprisonment.
Chicago Record-Herald.