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$1.00 a Year, in Advance. " FOR GOP, FOR COUNTRY, AND FOR TRUTH." ' Single Copy, 5 Cents. '
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yOL. XIII. PLYMOUTH, N. C, FEIDAY, JULY 4, 1902. NO. 17
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WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE DOM?
By Frank
AL CLAYTON was the son
of a sportsman; that Is to
say, although his father,
Henry Clayton, Esq., was a
H
few York lawyer, it was his habit to
to " ax o J.4J.UL11 1 j v; ci j j cai unir
Adirondack woods, where for about
two months he could enjoy the hunt
ing, fishing, rowing and tramping
ivhich that wild and picturesque re
gion afforded him. His son, Hal, in
herited his father's love of outdoor
;sport, and was already a fairly good
fisherman and a very good shot, and
lie enjoyed the Adirondack life quite
-as much as did his father.
Hal had a little room of his own at
liome, which. he called his study, and
.which was furnished according to his
own ideas. There were a good many
pictures on the walls, but over his desk
.was a vacant space where it was Hal's
ambition to hang the head and antlers
of a deer which he himself should
:shoot. His father encouraged him in
this ambition, and gave the boy on his
fifteenth birthday a fine new rifle; it is
certain there could be no greater en
couragement than this.
A few weeks afterward Mr. Clayton
smd his family were established in their
camp in the woods. Early one bright
morning Hal and his father started
out on their first deer hunt. Mr. Clay
ton was a good woodman, and needed
3x0 guide to the ordinary haunts of the
game in the vicinity of his camp. Af
ter a walk of three or four miles he
l and Hal
Mpf a lake
r'Now,
and Hal came to the edge of an arm
e. Here Mr. Clayton stopped.
Hal," said he, "I am going to
leave you here to shoot your first buck
that is, if you should be so lucky as
to see one. That open space down
there, about 200 feet away, is a place
Where the deer come out. Settle your
self behind this big, flat rock, and wait
until a buck comes down to drink. The
wind is all right, so he will not be apt
to discover you if you lie hidden. Then
you will have an opportunity to show
whether or not j-ou are a good shot.
I am going ofic'to another spot for deer,
And I think I shall be back about
noon."
When Mr. Clayton had departed Hal
began to prepare himself for work.
Laying his rifle on a depressed portion
of the rock, where it was concealed
from view, he .settled himself comfort
ably where he could look over the rock
without exposing more than his eyes
and gray felt hat, which was nearly the
-color of the stcne.
He had heard a great deal of deer
hunting, and he knew very well that
in order to get a shot it was often
necessary to wait a long time at a place
where deer might show themselves;
consequently he had brought his cam
era with him. He was very fond of
taking photographs, especially of out-of-door
scenes.
The first thing he did with his cam
era was to take a picture of the spot
where he hoped a deer would appear,
and having don? this he watched and
waited for a while, and then, when he
became tired of this ho took a photo
graph of another pretty scene near by.
For about half an hour after this he
sat behind- the rock and waited ana
atched, and just as he was beginning
to think it would be well to take an
other photograph in order to beguile
the tedium of this very slow sport he
saw a decided movement of the leaves
. In a mass of bushes at the edge of the
'wood near the place his father had told
him to watch. He laid his hand upon
liis rifle and held his breath.
Now from the bushes a head ap:
" peared, then a neck, but it was not the
head and neck for which he had been
waiting and hoping; it was the head of
a doe, on which grew no branching
antlers. But it. was a beautiful head,
and Hal was near enough to see the
beauty of the large, lustrous eyes.
Out into the open space between the
woods awd the water the doe stepped,
revealing the whole of her graceful
form. She looked to the right, she
, looked to the left, then she looked out
0?er the water, and when she had
xnade these prudent surveys she turned
Lor head toward the bushes from
which she had just emerged.
Then in an instant, as if she had
paid, "It is all right; come along, my
dear!" out skipped a little fawn. He,
too, raised his small head, looked to
the right, to the left, and out over the I
Stockton.
water, as if he wished to nssure him
self that his mother had been cox-rect
In telling him he was quite safe to
leave the shelter of the forest.
The mother deer now walked down
to the edge of the water and lowered
her graceful head to drink. The fawn
trotted after her and lowered his grace
ful little head, but he merely wet his
nose; he did not seem to care for water.
The doe, after taking another look
about her, deliberately walked for a
short distance into the shallow water
and then stopped and looked back
ward, as if inviting her son to come in
and see how nice it was to stand in the
cool water.
But the fawn had no fancy for any
thing of the kind. He pricked up his
ears, he stamped upon the ground with
his tiny hoofs, and he moved impa
tiently backward and forward along
the shore as if he thought his mother
should come out and behave herself
like a respectable deer.
The doe paid no attention, however,
to the fawn's annoyance. She even
walked further into the water, until
her legs were nearly concealed. The
fawn now became very much jjgitated,
and after springing backward and for
ward two or three times he went to
the edge of the water and put in one
foct; then he drew it back and
stamped; then, encouraged by his
mother, who might have been supposed
to be speaking gently to him all the
time, he put in both forefeet and stood
still for a minute.
But he diew back, and after stamp
ing as if he hated very much to have
wet feet he bounded away. Then he
turned to look at his mother, hoping,
probably, that she would think he had
done enough, and that she would come
out and cease her efforts to make him
do a very unpleasant thing. The doe
probably knew what was in the mind
of her son, but instead of paying some
attention to his evident appeals she
moved farther from the shore until
the water was so deep that she was
obliged to swim.
Hal thought that the little fawn now
became possessed with the fear that
he was going to lose his mother; that
she intended to cross the water and
leave him where he was. Made brave
by this anxiety he forget everything in
the frantic desire to be with her, wher
ever she might be going or whatever
she might be doing, and he plunged
into the cold water. He splashed and
kicked and tried to jump, but in a min
ute he was out of his depth, paddling
as fast as he could toward the doe,
wlio was waiting for him.
Hal watched these proceedings with
the most lively interest. It was plain
enough that the little creature, like
nearly all animals except man, was
able to support himself in the water,
and to swim without being taught to
do so, but it also seemed plain to Hal
that the fawn did not like cold water,
and would need a good deal of educa
tion by example before he would have
proper confidence in himself and run to
water if pursued.
On - he wont, with not much more
than his head out cf the water, and
working his little legs with an excited
energy that soon took him to his moth
er. Then she swam gently round him,
putting her head close to his, and ap
parently endeavoring to encourage him.
But the fawn did not want encour
agement. He wanted his mother to go
back to the shore, and to take him with
her, and as soon as he got a chance he
made as if he would climb on her back.
This pulled her down in the water, and
so, without any regard for the feelings
of her son, she shook him off and swam
to a little distance, moving toward the
shore.
The fawn followed, trying his best
to reach his mother and compel her to
carry him, but without leaving him fat
behind she kept out of his reach, al
though she always kept her eyes on
him, and seemed to be urging him to
swim ashore without her help.
In a short time the doe was standing
on dry land, and when the fawn could
touch bottom ho gave a great bound
up the shelving beach, and began rac
ing backward and forward as if to 'pet
warm by exercise. Meanwhile his
mother Stood looking at him. with evi
dent pride. Although his temper may
have been ruffled by the way his moth
er had treated him, he was now as
happy as any little fawn could be. He
had already forgotten he had ever
been afraid of the water.
The doe, having performed her moth
er duty, lay down in a sunny spot to
dry herself, and the fawn, ever williug
to emulate her in this respect stretched
himself on the ground beside her, not
in the graceful attitude she had as
sumed, but with his slender legs reach
ing out in four directions, his head
resting upon the ground.
In all the time he had been watching
the performances of the doe and the
fawn Hal had not even thought of his
rifle. To shoot at any time, or under
any circumstances, a little fawn and
its affectionate mother woxild have
been not only unsportsmanlike and il
legal, but shamefully cruel. And now
after the boy had, in a manner, made
the acquaintance of the pair, and had
taken so .much interest in the swim
ming lesson he 'would have felt almost
inclined to shoot any one who should
dare to shoot that doe and fawn.
While he had been watching the
swimming scene he had forgotten the
camera, but now he remembered it,
and was just about to take a picture of
the fawn and its mother, resting after
their bath when the pretty creatures
made a sudden movement. The fawn
raised its head, and the doe, without
rising, turned her eyes in the direction
of the woods.
Instantly Hal put down his camera
and laid his hand upon his rifle, nis
heart boat; fst his whole body, trem
bled. Something was coming; some
thing which deer were not afraid o",
for ti!b fikwn and its mother were not
in theMcttst frightened. Could it be
what he had been expecting?
Something did come, and it was ex
actly what Hal had been expecting,
waiting for, longing for. AVithout the
slightest hesitation a fine buck walked
out into the open. He did not look to
the right, he did not look to the left,
he did not: even deign to look out over
the water. .With a careless air he
threw a glance toward doe and fawn,
and then stepped forward to the water,
his manner indicating that he felt per
fectly at home, and that there was no
reason why he should not present him
self to other deer as an example of
courageous self-reliance.
He drank a little water, he nibbled a
little grass, and then he stepped toward
the spot where the doe and fawn were
lying. He raised his head and appeared
to be breathing with delight the warm,
sunny air, so different from the atmos
phere of the shaded depths of the for
est. Upon his head was a pair of mag
nificent antlers, every branch and point
of which showed clear and sharp in
the bright sunlight.
Hal's heart still beat fast, his hand
was on his rifle, and he was trying
hard to control the trembling of his
body. He knew all about this agita
tion at the first sight of noble game,
and he knew it must be controlled if
he wanted to make a good shot.
Yet in his excitement he could not
help being impressed with the rare
beauty of the picture the recumbent
doe, the fawn again lying by her side,
the buck standing not far behind them,
his head raised high, and in the back
ground the water, the trees and the
sky. Hal eagerly asked himself if it
would be possible to take a photograph
before he fired. Ho had not answered
his own question before there was a
sudden change in the appearance of
the buck. With a quick movement he
turned his head toward the Avater, his
ears bent forward, his eyes dilated and
from his mouth came a sh-ange, shrill,
whistling sound. He was frightened;
Hal could see nothing, could hear
nothing that seemed to indicate dan
ger, but the deer had sharper senses
than his. Probably it was only a fox
on the other side of the water. Deer
are often very much afraid of foxes,
although we know of no good reason
why they should be. But no matter
what the cause, the buck was alarmed.
His antlers trembled as if his whole
body were pervaded by a sudden tre
mor. The terror of the buck instantly com
municated itself to the doe and fawn;
the one half-raised herself from the
ground, turning her head toward the
water, and the little fellow sprang to
his feet.
It was a wonderful picture. Hal had
never seen an engraving or painting
which showed a group of deer at a mo
ment of such intense nervous excite
ment. But it was also a wonderfully
good 'opportunity for a shot.
There was no time for deliberation.
The buck raised his head still higher
and leaned a little toward the wood;
the doe sprang to her feet; the little
fawn slightly crouched as if about to
make a bound and Hal felt that what
ever was to be done must be done in
stantly. He seized the camera.
Click! It was over.
At that moment the buck turned his
head away from the water, the doe
leaned forward, there were three sud
den bounds and the startled animals
had plunged into the bushes and out of
sight.
Hal sat down on the ground and
leaned his back against the rock. Af
ter his excitement there came a reac
tion; he did not want to do anything
but just sit there. He was tired, he
was disappointed, he was happy. He
sat there a long time, noW thinking of
the buck's head, with its branching
antlers, which might have hung on the
wall above his desk; thinking of the
little fawn and its petulant way of
stamping its hoofs upon the ground;
thinking of the tender-eyed doe so gen
tly and steadfastly giving her little son
a needed lesson in life; thinking of the
grand buck, still alive and unharmed,
standing in safety somewhere in the
depths of the forest.
When Mr. Clayton came back he
found his son still sitting by the rock.
"Well," he said, "did you see a buck?"
"Oh,yes," said Hal.
"Did he give you a chance for a
shot?"
"Yes." said Hal, "a fine one."
Mr. Clayton looked about, but saw
nothing which betokened that his son
had shot a deer. "What," said he,
"did you miss him?"
"No," said Hal, and then, seeing his
father was completely mystified, he
told his story
Mr. Clayton stood silent for a few
moments, looking at his son. "Well,"
said he, "I don't know that I should
have been able to do that, but I should
be glad to believe I might have been
able."
The story of Hal Clayton's deer hunt
spread rapidly through the little camp,
which was composed of four or five
families, all very well acquainted. In
the course of the afternoon Hal took
his fishing rod and went to the edge
of a lake about half a mile from the
camp. There he met a party of his
boy friends, all busy fishing.
"Hello, Hal!" cried one of them.
"What are yon doing with that rod?
Why didn't you bring your camera?
If a fish should stick its head out of
the water you would not be able to
photograph it."
He did not like this style of talk, but
he made no answer. Then Sam Curtis,
the biggest boy of the little company,
addressed him.
"Hal," said he, "can you tell me how
it feels to be a rnollycoddy ?"
"A Avhat?" exclaimed Hal, the blood!
rushing to his face.
"A rnollycoddy," replied Sam. "That's
what you are. You haven't any busi
ness to go hunting and fishing. Y'ou
ought to stay with the girls and play
croquet. Of all things I wouldn't be
a rnollycoddy."
Hal dropped his fishing line and
stepped quickly toward Sam Curtis.
That evening Sam Curtis was taking
a walk in the moonlight, when he met
some of his friends.
"Well, Sara," said one of them, by
way of cheering him up, "how do you
like the rnollycoddy?"
"Like him!" said Sam. "I like him
well enough. There is nothing the mat
ter Avith him. But the next time he
wants to have anything to do with me
I am going to ask him to take my pho-'
tograph."
There -are no buck's horns on the
wall above Hal Clayton's desk, but in
their place hangs a framed photograph,
considerably enlarged from the orig
inal, of a group of deer, Avith a lake
and forest for a background.
A good many of Mr. Clayton's sports
men friends have come to look at this
picture, and they all agree that it Avas
not only very Well taken, but that, as
far as they know, it 'is a unique pic
ture, showing a group of deer in a most
unusual and interesting state of mind.
Then, if Hal is not present, Mr. Clay
ton tells his friends the story I have
just told you. Youth's Companion.
Pulp and Paper. M ilia.
There are now more than 1100 pulp
and paper mills in the United States.
They use about a billion feet of lumber
in a year. The sawmills consume
twenty times as much. I
Origin of the Name Oregon.
The name Oregon first appears in
"Jonathan Carver's Travels," pub
lished in London about 1778. Possibly
it is a corruption of the Spanish "Ara
gon." In cooking as in singing a great deal
depends on the rane.
BILL WAS THERE.
Bill was just a common sort,
Never dreamed of wealth nor fame; r
T1-,1.J,J A A',An'i- ...r
X iuuucu uu aiiu uiuu v n y
. ... 1 . n '
Kept a-going all ,the time,
Busy here and everywhere;
When a task turned up to do,
Bill was there!
Didn't congregate around
Evenings at old Perkins' store;
Where the other boys would tell
All they ever did and more.
He .-just rose at morning light.
Weather stormv, weather fair;
Always work on hand to do,
Bill Ayas there!
Never heard him whine around
'Cause things didn't go just so;
In the joy he whistled loud,
In the pain he whistled low.
Took things as they came,
Smiling if 'twas joy or care,
Never faltered; when things came
Bill was there !
So he didn't make no stir,
Lived a quiet busy life;
Lived a life that didn't hae
Room for petty thought and strife.
He had simple work to do
Wa'n't no call to do nor dare;
Just a constant watch, you know
Bill Avas there!
Such a man as Bill drops out
And the world goes just the same;
Doesn't hear death speak the word
When he calls him by the name.
Just the common, plodding sort
Bill has certain gone to Avhere
They'M remember how and Avhen
Bill Avas there!
Hartford Times.
"What's the purpose of bacteriology,
anyway?" "Well, it reduces worry
ing to a posithre sceience, for one
thing." Life.
Gladys "They say Harold is an ex
pert in the art of self-defense."
Evelyn "Nonsense! Edith made him
propose in just one week! Tit-Bits.
"Was he a philanthropist?" "No;
hie did not leave behind enough money:
to be called that. He Avas merely an
extraordinarily charitable man." Bal-'
timore Herald, j
Mamma "Figh tin again? Why. a
guuu unit; ujj nuuiuu i, null u. uaiLj
of another boy's head." Johnny (
"Well, I didn't! I just punched his
nose." Tit-Bits. 1
"Jabez is gettin'
speakin,' ain't be?"
used to public
"Oh, yes. I re-
member when you
could hardly get
mm to stand up,
an' noAV you kin
hardly get him to sit doAvn." Puck.
The man who never makes mistakes j
Must forfeit much delight; t
He cannot feel the sweet surprise
Of sometimes being right.
Washington Star, j
Artist "Yes, I've given this picture
of a pretty young widow a sort of hor
ticultural name." Friend "Indeed!;
What did you call it?" Artist "A
Daisy Beneath the Weeds." Chicago
News.
Mr. Goops "Wasn't there some kind
of a hitch about the A-edding of Mr.
Spooneigh and Miss Mooney?" Mr.
Whoop "No; the groom did not sIioav;.
up, so there Avasn't any hitch at all."
Baltimore American.
"It's an Al display," said Mr. Pitt
at the dog show. "It's a first-class ex-,
hibition," replied Mr. Fenn, "but:
you've got the wrong number." "IIoav
so?" "Instead of Al it is K'J."-Pitt.
burg Chronicle-Tlegeraph.
"He's got a great scheme to exters
rainate mosquitoes." "What is it? Tha
idea about petroleum?" "Not at alL
His scheme is to cross them with
lightning bugs so you'll knoAv whea
they're coming." Chicago Tribune.
Climate and Speech.
The recent agitation in the philolog
ical world for the adoption of Latin
as the universal tongue for cultured
people is doomed to failure owing to
the fact that it is confronted Avith a
physical impossibility. In the first place
the vocal organs are so entirely dissim
ilar in different races that a language
Avill change too much for the various
people using it to understand each
other.
Again, if we could give the Italian,
language to the Chinese or Itussians,
it AA'ould change so that in a few years;
AAe Avould not recognize it as the same.
This disability may be accounted for,
by the fact that the people in the
North speak with the lips nearly closed,
and those living in a mild climate give'
free articulation by opening the mouth.
New York Herald.
Y