1 5 ft 10 W fllf iff
Ml P
... sc
lJ $i.oo a. Year, in Advance.
FOR QOD, FOR COUNTRY, AND FOR TRUTH.'
SlngS Copy, f Cent.
VOL. X VI.
PLYMOUTH. N, C, FRIDAY, APJRIL 7, 1905
' NO. 3. '
y
H Iff
iip if
'iM H
MAUD S
The Story of a Country Girl's City
'-.V " Experience.
WISH jou would give it
up, Maude.. 1 cannot bear
tiie thought of your, going
to the city to work, and
your papa and 1 need you
so much at home, dear,"
said Mrs. Stowell.
It was a sultry morning in July.
Mother and daughter were on the cool.
Tine-covered, back gallery; Mrs. Stow
ell busily preparing vegetables for din
ner, while Maude impatiently drummed
upon the floor. .
"But, mamma, I'm sick and tired of
this dismal round of dish-washing,
, churning, chasing after, hens, and
drudgery of all kinds. Susie has every
thing nice, while 1 must go round as
tacky' as can be; and she says she
knows I can get a plaee at Brown &
Greenwood's store."
"But, Maude, when we get the farm
clear again, you can have nice clothes,
too. It won't be long now, only one
more good crop, and wo will be free
of debt, and the prospect is tine for
a good crop," said Mrs. Stowell, hope
fully. "Besides, I don't think Susie
Griffin is the most refined-girl in the
world, and I'd rather you didn't asso-
ciate with her." ' '
"Oh, yes: There you go., mamma.
It seems that you object to everybody
I like. I'm sure Susie has more beaux
than any girl in this" neighborhood, she
dresses better, too,, and. she is justas
jolly as can vbe, and as for our ever
having anything I've given np hopes,"
said Maude, a little ashamed, however,
as she saw the look of pimed surprise
on her mother's lace. .
' "But, Maudie, clothes are not every
thing, and as for beaux I'd far rather
you never had any,', than, that you
should go with the class of young men
Susie associates with; and, Maude, you
have a great many pleasures. You
have your pony to ride, and there's
your choir1 practice once a week,
iind " , ' '
"Oh, yes; but what 'does that amount
to?. Susie says she goes to the theatre
every lew days, and . there's the mat
inees, and the balls are something
grand, Susie says." .
"God forbid that you should ever at
tend a public ball, Maude," said Mrs.
Stowell, anxiously.
"Well, but mamma, they are not pub
lic. Everybody has invitations, and
Susie says that the ball dresses are a
dream of beauty," said Maude.
"Maude, listen, to your mother this
once. That is just the trouble; every
body does have invitations, and you
will find that all kinds of men and
women attend them. Now, give up
this idea of going to the city. You
know your father will never consent
to your going, and 1 would rather
yon did nearly anything else in the
world than that 3rou should be under
the influence of Susie Griffin."
"Yes, of . course you can run Susie
down, but . she is a good girl, and 1
never had so much fun as when with
Jher," said Maude.
Mrs. Stowell sighed, but said no
more. Maude vas the only daughter,
and had been" petted and indulged all
her life, until at eighteen she was will
ful and selfish; her many good qualities
had become almost obscured by self
indulgence. She thought, as alas,
many others in. -this old world think,
life is given us for pleasure alone. Her
patient, loving parents had tried to
teach her that duty, lovingly and faith
fully performed, is the true source of
-happiness.
Mr. aud Mrs. Stowell had been .very
unfortunate financially. They had ex
perienced many crop failures, due to
hoth Hood and drouth. Mr. Stowell
Jiad teen crippled with rheumatism for
.a long time, and unable to work, had
mortgaged the farm to obtain the nec
essaries of life. Death had entered,
.and after a long illness, claimed Fran
cis, the little son, who - Was -idolized
by . his m&ther, and the pride and joy
of hi8wfafher's"heart. 'This had been
several 'years previous to the opening
-of our story, but ' Mrs. Stowell' had
neVotv -beotf " the -same sin'eei it' seemed
she could not see the faults of her
daughter. ? .
A few days after the a'bove conversa
tion, Susie Grirlin came out from the
-city, bringing some friefeds to spend!
tfundoy vitu her parents. With them
11 n
11
ill
TOWELL
if
came a certain young man who had
condescended (?) to pay some attention
to Maude. Susie chaffed in public,
but confidentially told her that she
"never would forgive her if she cut
her out." That Louis Rowland was a
"sreat catch."
He was worthless, shallow, conceited
and unprincipled, under a rather hand
some and dandyish exterior, just the
kind of a fellow to catch the fancy of
our foolish Maude. Her vanity was
flattered as much by the envious looks
of some of the other girls, as by Susie's
protestations of undying hate, if Maude
should "cut her out."
Mrs. Stowell not being well, Maude
attended church alone, and the services
over, accompanied Susie and her
friends home. ixuis Rowland proceed
ed in flattering and glowing terms, to
picture life in the city, and to scoff at
the simple, modest country girls, coun
try manners and dress being made the
special- object of ridicule,- until poor
Maude felt her cheeks burn with
shame. Oh, why would her father
persist in staying in the country? She
was filled with resentment against him.
Fortunately her fond parents did, not
know the mind of their child that after
noon. "But, Miss Maude, j;ou were never
intended for a country girl. ' You are
much too pretty and graceful," said
Louis, with a look of admiration so
plain as to cause Maude to blush.
"You should come to town where you
would be appreciated, and where you
could see something." ;.:' "1''
"That's just what I have been tell
ing her this long time," . said Susie,
"Maude, suppose you get ready and
go back, with us. We. go at U.30, and
you can start in the morning. I'm
sure you can get in at Brown and
Greenwood's." ; ,
"Yes, do, Miss Maude. We will
have jolly times when you are one of
us," said Louis.
"I wouicrn't mope away my life In
this poky place for anybody, Maude.
Get ready, and go. What do you
say?" said Susie, coaxingly.
"Well, I'll go, but 1 can't go this
afternoon," said Maude, thinking of
laundering and packing her best
dresses.
There was a stormy scene at Mr.
Stowell's farm the next morning. Al
though her father have ever been kind
and indulgent to her, Maude found
that he could be very stern and un
relenting, and now that she had de
termined to disobey him in a matter
which was of vital importance, he
said sternly:
"If you go away, after all your
mother and 1 have said, you may
stay."
-
Tuesday morning found Maudo
standing, grip iu hand, in the depot
of the town where Susie worked, a
stranger and alone. Her heart was
very heavy, for she could not shake
off .the' memory of her mother's tear
wet, sorrowful face. Sho stood, look
ing around in a bewildered way, not
knowing which way to turn, when
Susie "exclaimed:
"So you came? I'm so glad,
Maude," passing her arm around
Maude's waist affectionately. "1 had
no end of a time getting off, I'll tell
you. Old Brown was as cross as a
bear. I had to tell him all kinds of
stuff. But you're 'right in it,' for
ther'c a vacancy. One of the girls
Is sick and you can get her place. It's
a ' shirt ,waist counter, end is "dead
easy.' I'll tell you, Maude, you're
lucky. We'll leave your grip at my
room and go np right away, for 1 only
have two hours." '
, Mr. Brown, the senior partner of
the firm, liked the appearance of
Maude, and although she did not
know it, her soft brown eyes wore a
very appealing look, as busie ex
plained her merits,' adding such embel
lishments as she thought best. .
The next day found Maude duly in
stalled behind a stuffy counter. It
was terribly hot, and before night
she caught herself longing for the cool,
shaded hammock on the lawn at home,
where she had spent so many happy
hours, listening In a dull way to the
cackling hens and crowing cocks, the
twitter of birds In the branches over
head, and the humming of a thousand
Insects.
A few days later a couple of fashion
ably dressed women-came up to her
counter and asked to see some shirt
waists. After turning over half the
stock, one exclaimed pettishly: "Can't
you show us something decent? These
things are perfectly horrid."
Maude was "new," and hardly knew
what to say, but her quick temper got
the better of her, and she said, "If
you don't like these you will have to
go somewhere else."
The lady appeared astonished, and
murmuring something about 'report
ing," walked away. When six o'clock
came, and Maude was pinning on her
hat, one of the clerks came to tell her
that Mr. Brown wanted her in. the
office. ' She hastened to obey, and was
curtly told that her services would
not be required apy longer.
"What have I done, Mr. Brown?"
asked Maude, ready to cry.
"No impudent clerks employed in
this establishment," ' he condescended
to say, waving her towards the door.
Poor Maude hardly knew what to
do after this. Discharged without a
recommendation, she was compelled to
do as Susie advised, try to get work
in the bagging mill.
She Succeeded, after several trials,
to get a place as "can carrier." She
was dazed, and suffered greatly with
headaches at first,, caused,: from the
ceaseless roar of the great machinery.
She soon found out what the life of
a mill girl really is. The majority, of
the girls we're coarse and decidedly
fast, and she found herself an object
of curiosity and ridicule. ' The girls
nicknamed her "The Angel." She was
subjeqt to insult, for there are so many
of . these girls who are,, alas, far from
purity, that the name, "Mill Girl," is
a stigma of disgrace.
.The hot, dusty, lint-laden air, the
coarse, foul language, and the inces
sant toil, the long hours, and dreary
grind of the mill soon grew almost un
endurable to country-bred Maude.
True, She had evenings at the theatre,
with Louis and' Susie, but as she be
came better acquainted with Louis,
his polished manners , gradually van
ished, and his true nature was re
vealed to her. She attended a few of
the "grand balls," and instead of being
"delighted," as Susie had glowingly
said, she, was thoroughly disgusted.
A few months passed away, and found
Maude a disillusioned, a very homesick
and repentant girl. Oh, . how she
longed to lay her aching head on her
dear mother's breast and cry out her
misery. But those last words of her
father st'U rang in her ears: "If you
go away after all your mother and J
have said you can stay."
She was too proud to go back. She
longed unspeakably for the quiet home
that she had thought so hateful. She
would have given anything for a ride
through the wood on the back of her
pony, Jack; but the cry of' her heart
was: "Oh, mamma! mamma! papa!
papa! Oh, to be at he 3 once more!"
If only she could ask and receive for
giveness for her past selfishness; and
she could see how very selfish she had
been. If she could only write to her
mother! But no; her father had said:
"You f'Jn't write. If you cannot obey
us, you must choose between us and
those people."
She found the pleasures of the city
are not for the poor. They are too
expensive. There was no pleasure in
visiting the shops to look at the grand
displays of beautiful things, when she
had no money to buy anything but the
cheapest.
One cold, misty morning in Decem
ber, Maude hurriedly dressed, for she
had overslept herself. She had gone
to bed with, a severe headache, and
was almost ill, after cooking her
meager breakfast von the -gasoline
stove,' Joint property between her and
Susie. She breakfasted alone .now, for
there was a coldness between the two
girls. Maude had grown, so "goody
goody" of late that Susie declared,
"she could stay at home and mope If
she wanted to. I will not make any
special effort to get up unnecessarily
early" (as had been her wont to do at
first )::just to keep Maude company."
Half past six saw Maude hurrying
through the dull grey of the street.
The great doors closed at seven sharp,
and no one was admitted after that
hour. Besides she was liable to lose
.her, place. Fortunately she arrived tri
time. She had-risen to this dignity, of
"baektender" now, on one of the great
'rovers," and the pay was a little bet
ter than that of the "can carrier." It
proved to be a very trying morning.
The number of pounds of jute run off
of each machine In a day shows the
amount earned by the ' two girls in
charge. This morning the jute ran
very badly: the machine had to be
stopped every few minutes. Maude
was very nervous, almost despevte,
for her pocket book was nearly empty.
It was strictly against .the rules to
clean any part of the machinery with
out first informing the "front tender"
of the intention to do so. But Maude,
in her -anxiety, forgot this.' Mamie
Ogden started the machine; there was
a. horrible scream from Maude, as her
fingers were drawn into the terrible
machine and mangled into a shapeless
mass. Mamie instantly shut off the
machine, or Maude's whole body
would have been crushed, or her arm
torn from its socket.
The girls gathered around, some
screaming, some almost fainting. Boor
Maude was carried insensible to the
office, and the factory physician im
mediately, called. At first it was
thought her hand wrouid have to be
amputated, but kind Dr. Bland did his
very best, and by the help of a skilled
nurse saved it. ' 1 '
Mamie Ogden, who knew Susie,
where she worked and roomed, im
mediately telephoned to the store the
shocking news. Susie was horrified,
and tearful at sight of Maude's terrible
plight, and immediately telegraphed
the news to Mr. and Mrs. Stowell.
Bale, and much shaken, Mrs. Stow
ell carried the telegram to .hei hus
band. He read it, his stern, sun
burned face growing pale.
"Get 'out my things, wife," he said.
"I'll catch the' first train, and go and'
bring her home. I've. had my lesson.
i'Ve been too hard on the poor little
bird." ..v :
Mrs. Stowell put her arms lovingly
around his neck, her heart too full
for words. ' She had heard from the
Griffins, from time to t time, of the
trials of her daughter; also of the
change in her, and she wisely guessed
that after all, her careful training had
not been in vain. Sho had bided her
time, trusting that ail would end well.
After what seemed to him an age,
Mr. Stowell arrived at his destination,
and was shown to the door of
Maude's room. He gazed in aston
ishment and consternation . at his
daughter's pale, woe-be-gone, little
face on the pillow, and then she be
came conscious of his presence. With
a glad cry of "Papa!" she was in his
arras, sobbing out her repentance.
A few weeks later, Maude, with her
hand still bandaged and in a sling,
was able to walk about home, on a
tour of inspection. Oh, the sweetness
of that word, Home! Never had her
mother been so dear to her. .Never
before had she appreciated either
father or mother. The cows and
horses had been visited in turn, and
received a share of petting. She led
the hens and pigeons, the ducks and
turkeys, and, as they flocked around
her as of Old, Maude declared she
be willing to "chase hens all the rest
of her life." The orchard, meadow,
fields, vineyard, and garden had all
been inspected and happily commemt
ed. on; lastly the rose-garden, the
flower beds, the lawn, and trees sur
rounding the house were gone over
and admired for about the "fifteenth
time."
"Mamma," said Maude, "how Susie
Griffin can prefer the city to this
and how 1 could ever have imagined
that 1 should prefer it, is beyond my
comprehension." Farm and Ranch.
The Lai-Rest Flower.
The Eafiiesia is a strange plant, says
American Gardening. It grows in Su
matra and derives it name from Sir
Stamford Raffles, governor of Sumatra,
at one time, and his. friend, Doctor
Arnold, a naturalist. They were the
first white men to discover .the won
derful plant. It is said to be the larg
est and most magnificent flower in the
world. It is composed of five roundish
petals, each a foot across and of a
brick-red color, covered with numerous
irregular yellowish white swellings.
The petals surround a cup nearly a
foot wide, the margin of which bears
the stamens '
The cup is filled with a fleshy disk,
the upper surface of which is every
where covered with projections like
miniature cow's horns. The cup when
free from its contents would hold about
twelve pints of water. The .flower
weighs fifteen pounds; It Is very thick,
the petals being three-quarters of an
inch in thickness. With its beauty one
is led to expect sweetness, but its odor
is that of tainted beef, and Doctor Arn
old supposed that even the Hies were
deceived by the smell and were depos
iting their eggs in the thick disk, tak
ina it for a piece of carrion.
LINNET SINCING.
The Pleasure of Thousands and the Bast
neBs ot Scores.
In the little, swarming streets off
Whitechapel Koad, down tbronghi.
Shoreditch and Bethnal Green, linnet
singing is the pastime of thousands
and the business of scores of men, who
will bet themselves to.' a standstill
over the sweet-voiced rivalries of two
wee, brown little birds caged on the
wall of some public house whose repu
tation makes respectability C timorous
of intrusion. The hard-face "East
Ender," whose chlefest joy is a bloody
"limited round go' in the prize ring of
Harry Jacob's Wonderland in White
chapel, may be seen next night In the
back room ot Tom Symond's "pub,"
sitting in breathless silence, and be
hind locked doors,, with a hundred of
his kind, while his linnet sings a match
for "pleasant song," and a stake of ten
shillings a side.
There was never a more incongruous
sport than this, yet despite its gamb
ling interest, inseparable from all
kinds of popular English sport, it 19
to rejoice that so sentimental and
whimsical a pastime makes many a
bright spot in the clouded life of the
East End. To those who do not know,
it may be well to explain that the
vocal school of the linnet in ihe world
of sport is as thoroughlj' systematized
and as fast bound by tradition as tlje
preparatory- training for grand opera.
This is no haphazard issueof betting
which of two birds will sing longest,
or loudest, or sweetest. Every detail
of a match is fixed by unwritten law
molded through many generations, ot
referees, timekeepers, scorers and own-'
ers. .,
From time beyond reckoning, the
linnet's singing vocabulary lias been
fixed and set into , the two division
known as "pleasant song" and
"rough song." The first consists ' of a
list of refrains, each of which con
tains more than' four notes or syllables.
If a match is made for '.'pleasant
song," then the contesting birds' inust
stick to their more complicated strains,
else theyare senred against. , , In-such
a match, if the :innet.interjects one or
more of the shorter or "rough songs,"
each failt is chalked against him by
the score-keeper, and appears in' the
final totals. If the stipulation is ' for
"rough song," then the bird may; use
these contracted or easier sequences of
notes, and receive perfect marks. The
birds which can be backed to sing only
"pleasant song" are the grand opera
stars of the bird stage in East Loudon.
Iialph D. Paine, iu Outing. s ...
llscovry of the Ichthyoiaur.
Ichthyosaurus is : name much jested
with, because it rivals the mastodon as
a iiicst widely known, fossil, dating
back to its discovery by Sir Everard
It. Home, between 1S14 and 1S1!, in
the marine deposits of Lyme-liegis,
England. The name, siguitying "tish
lizard." shows that this animal im
pressed Konig, its aescriber, as having
a fish-like backbone, combined with a
shoulder girdle of the lizard or saurian
typo. This term couid not have been,
more happily :hosen, because, whlla re
taining the skeletou of an atavistic and
extremely ancient lizard, Ihe ichthyo
saur evolved a most strikingly modern
external likeness to certain very fa
miliar animals of the sr.mian. From
Henry Fairchiid Oseorn'.s "lchthyo-'
Looked Aflcr.
A young man who wished to be ap
pointed a county police constable put
in an appearance one morning accom
panied by his' mother, and was taken
in hand for examination by tht,- inspec
tor. This progressed satisl'atorily un
til the inspector observed: 0f course
you are awar.! you'll have a lot of
night work to do? You are not afraid
of being out late, 1 suppose?" Before
the candidate could reply hit mother
electrified the otlieJr.l -vita the state
ment: "That'll be all risht, sir, never
fear; his grandmocher is going round
with him the first two or three nights,
until ho gets used to it." Birmingham
(England) Post.
CUnr'ii DIdIjjs IIoumct.
In the czar's palace at Peterhof there
Is ;i summer dining house so deranged
that -there need not be any ' servants
present during the meal.. A bell is
touched at the end of every course and
the table and. all. Us contpft.ts-then de
scend through the floors to reappear
laden with the dislies for -the next
course.
A new use of vanadium is announced
hi a forthcoming invention by Wilheln
you Sieuieus. It concerns a vanadium,
glow lamp. ;V