- . v
V-.j $1.00 a Year, In Advance."
FOR GOD, FOR COUNTRY AND FOR TRUTH"
Single Copy 5 Cents,
l": ; vol. xvi.
PLYMOUTH, N, C FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 22, 1905.
NO. 27.
r
jl3 jLLC'.C if
V-
THE HUSHED HOUSE.
I went at nightfall,
Came again at dawn;
On Love's door again I knocked
Love was gone.
He who oJ;t had bade me in
Now would, hid no more;
Silence sat within his house,
Barred its door.
When the slow door opened wide
Through it I could see
How the emptiness within
Stared at me.
Through the dreary chamhers
' Long I sought and sighed,
But no answerni-j footstep came;
Naught replied.
AH AEEIDENOJDJTS SEQUEL
By KATE RATHMORE.
Jl
I REMEMBER it as well as
if it wore yesterday. , The
carriage stood at the door,
and I was to go back to
school for the spring term.
sm m
I
My mother gave innu
merable instructions, smoothed my col
lar, and adjusted my cap on my head
properly, then gave me a kiss and
stood looking wistfully at me as I went
down the walk and got into the car-,
riage.
A month or two later it was in June,
I think after a hard struggle one af
ternoon with soma figure., ail about a
ship and a cargo and the profit and
all that, I went out to join the other
ooys.
When I renchedtlie playground they
"werejgone, and there was nothing fov
me to do but amuse myself as best I
could. '
I strolled about the house with my
Jands in my pockets which my moth
t' had told me distinctly not to do
aiid, suddenly remembering her in
structions, took them out again; then,
for want of better amusement, I be
jan to whistle.
Next to the school there was a pret
ty cottage separated from the'htiol
house by a board fence. The "two
houses were not a lyindrer feet tpart.
and I could look right through under
the trees, and there on the tennis
ground stood a girl a trifleyounger than
myself, looking straight at me.
'Now, when a boy suddenly finds
himself observed by a girl, be feels
somewhat queer. I remember that very
well. My hands went right into my
pockets, but remembering that that
was not the correct thing to do in the
presence of a girl, I took them direct
ly out again.
jThen I concluded that it would be a
g6od way to show how little I was
, embarrassed by turning around up
my heel, a movement on which I
greatly prided myself. After that, I
don't remember it was so long ago
what new capers I cut. Hut one thing
Is very certain. I was soon hunting
for something I pretended to have lost
in the grass beside the fence.
'"If it's your knife you've lost." I
heard a musical voice say. "it isn't
there. I picked up a knife there a
week ago, but-it was all rusty and no
good."
"Oh, never mind." I said, looking up
into two eyes peeping out from a sun
bonnet; "it wasn't much of a knife,
and I've got another."
"Are you one of the boys at the
school?"'
"Yes."
"What class are you in?"
"The fourth."
"Do you study geography?"
"Yes."
"What's the capital of Austria?"
I scratched my head.
"I don't remember that," I admitted,
reluctantly. "I'm first rate on capitals,
but I can't recollect that one."
;"Why didn't you go off with the
toys?"
"I was behind with my sums. I sup
pose they've gone to the river. I like
the woods pretty well; they're full of
squirrels."
"And lizards," she added. "I'm not
afraid of lizards. I suppose you're
afraid to go there."
"No, I'm not."
"If you want to go there now, and
are afraid, I don't mind going with
you, just to keep off the lizards and
things."
She looked wistfully out at the wood.
I can see her now leaning on her
wicket, deliberating if such a pro
cess can be balled deliberation where
the conclusion was determined the
straight, lithe figure poised between
the racket and one foot, one little leg
crossed on the other peering out at
the forest.
Suddenly, without any warning, sh?
-dropped the racket and started for the
wood.
We were not long in crossing the
...field, and were walking in the dense
; shade when she stopped, and looking
at me with her expressive eyes, said:
.- "How still it is in here! It seems
?to hie I can almost hear the silence."
"Yes, it is pretty solemn," I replied.
"'Let's go on; the river winds about
down there, and we can see the water
go over the dam."
I heard a distant voice calling
''Julia." It was very faint; she did
Then, at last I entered
Dim a darkened room;
There a taper glimmered gray
In the gloom. , . (
And I saw one lying
Crowned with heliochrys;
Never saw I face as fair
As was his.
Like a wintry lily
Was his brow in hue;
And his cheeks were each a rose,
Wintry, too.
Then my soul remembered
All that made us part,
And what I had laughed at once
Broke my heart.
-Madison Cawein,in Harper's Magazine.
not hear it. I stood a moment hesitat
ing. "Come, let's go," I said, starting
forward.
"Julia," I heard again, more faintly
than before.
I hurried on, fearing she would hear
the voice and turn back.
Presently we emerged from the wood
and stood by the river. I -tfas familiar
with the ground, jjnd led my, little
friend directly to the dam.
"Most of the boys are afraid to
walk out on that dam," I said.
"I'd be afraid."
"But you're only a girl; a boy
oughtn't to be afraid." With that I
started boldly out, occasionally stand
ing on one foot, and performing sun
dry antics to show what a brave boy
I was. Then I retraced a few steps
and called to her to come.
"Oh, no," she said; "I'm afraid."
"Afraid! You little goose! With me
to hold on to?"
Between her fear and a disposition'
pliable to a boy older and stronger
than herself, it was not long before I
was leading her out on the dam.
"Don't you see it's quite safe?" I
said. , tv .
She shrank back as I led along. I
determined that she should go to a
point where the water poured over a
portion of the dam lower than the rest.
I turned my back to step up on the
post. It was but a moment. I heard
a cry, and saw Julia in the llood.
The expression that was in her eyes
is to this day 'stamped clearly on my
memory an expression of mingled re
proach and forgiveness.
I could scarcely swin a dozen
strokes, but not a second had elapsed
before I was in the water.
I swam and .struggled and buffeted
to reach her; ail in vain. An eddy
whirled me iu a different direction.
My strength was soon exhausted. 1
was borne down the river, sinking
and rising, till I came to a place
where 1 caught a glimpse, as I rose
to the surface, of a man running along
some planks extending into the river,
and raised "abeve the water on' posts.
My fi-et became entangled in weeds.
I sank. I heard a great roaring in my
ears, then oblivion.
When I came to I was lying on my
back. I remember the first thing I
saw was a light cloud sailing over
thtf clear blue. There was an air of
quiet and peace that contrasted with
my own sensations. Then I saw a man
on his knees beside something he
was rubbing. I turned my head aside
and say it was a little figure a girl,
Julia. She was cold and stark.
My agony was far greater tiian when
I had plunged after her into the
stream. Then I hoped and believed
that if she were drowned I would be
also. Now I saw her beside me life
less, and I. lived.
Then some men came, and the man
who was rubbing Julia said to them:
"Take care of the boy; the girl is too
far gone." They took me up and car
ried me away, and laid me for a while
on a bed in a strange house. Then
I was driven to the school.
The next day my father came and
took me home. I was ill after that,
too ill to ask about Julia, but when I
recovered what a load was taken
from my mind to know that by dint
of rubbing and rolling, and a stimu
lant, she had been brought to and
had recovered. . I also learned that
the man who cared for us had seen
Julia fall and had rescued her. When
I saw him running along the planks
it was to his boat chained to the end.
That summer my father removed
with his family to Western Pennsyl
vania. He was" obliged to wait so:ne
time for my recovery, but at last I
was able to travel, and left without
again seeing the little girl whom I had
led into danger. I only heard that I
had been blamed by everyone.
Ten years passed, during which I
was constantly haunted by one idea;'
that was to go back and find Julia
and implore her forgiveness. The
years that I must be a boy and depen
dent seemed interminable. At last I
came of age, and received a small for
tune that" had fallen to me, and, as
soon as the papers in the case were
duly signed and sealed, I started.
It was just about the same time of
the year, md the same hour of the af
ternoon as when I first saw. Julia,
that I .walked Into -the old scheolT
grounds. I had fully Intended to go
in next door and call for her, but my
courage failed me. I had heard noth
ing of her for years. Was she dead?
Was she living? Was she in her old
home, or far away? These thoughts
chased each other through my mind,
and I dreaded to know. 4
I was standing at the school en
trance, with my hand on the .bell,
when I heard a door in the next
house open and then shut. From that
moment I could feel that Julia was
near me.
She came out of the bouse, a slen
der, graceful girl of nineteen, and,
picking up a tennis racket, commenced
to knock the balls about. I wanted
to make myself known, but dreaded
the horror with which she would re
gard me when she should learn who I
was.
"I beg your pardon," I-said, raising
my hat, "can you tell me if the school
is still there?" pointing to the house.
"It was moved some years ago,"
she replied, regarding me with the
old, steady gaze.
"I was one of the scholars."
"Indeed!" She spoke without any
further encouragement for me to go
on.
"I see the wood has been cut away,"
I added, glancing toward it.
"No; it doesnot seem to be,"
"Were you ever there?"
"Oh, yes, often."
"And is that old dam still across
the river.?"
"I believe it is."
She looked at me curiously. I went
on without waiting for a reply:
"Would you mind showing me the
way to' it?" It is a long while since
1 was there."
She drew herself up with slight
hauteur. Then, thinking that perhaps
I was unaccustomed to the conven
tional ways of civilized life, she said,
pleasantly;
"You have only to walk through the
wood straight, at the back of the house
and you will come to it." '
"Thank you," I replied; "but 1
hoped you would show ne the way."
She looked puzzled.
"Miss Julia," I said, altering my
tone, "I once met you when I was a
boy here at school."
"I knew a number of scholars," she
said, more interested; "who are you?"
I dreaded to tell her. "If you will
pilot me to the dam," I said, "i will
inform you."
She thought a moment, then turned
and looked out at the wood. With the
quick motion with which she had
made the same move as a child, she
started forward.
We walked side by side to the wood,
through it out on the river bank.
There was the water and the dam;
everything as it had been ten years
before. 1
"Did you ever try to walk out there?"
I asked.
"Once, when I was a child, I came
here with a boy, and we walked to
where the water pours over. I met
with an accident. I fell in."
"The boy ovorpersuaded you, I sup
.posc?" . ;. . . ' : ti
rt was difficult for me to cSnceal a
certain trepidation at the mention of
my fauit.
"No, I went of my own accord."
"He certainly must have been to
blame. He was older and stronger
than yon.".
"On the contrary," she said, with a
slight, rising irritation, "he jumped
after me like the noble little fellow
that he was."
I turned away on pretense of exam
ining a boat down the river.
"At any rate, he must Lave begged
your forgiveness on his knees for per
mitting you to go into such a danger?"
"I never saw him again. He went
away."'
1 fancied at least, I hoped I could
detect a tinye of sadn?ss in her
voice.
"I have often wished," she went on.
"that he would come back, as the other
senolars sometimes do, as you are now,
and let me tell him how much I thank
him for his noble effort."
"Julia," I said, suddenly turning
and fating her. ''This is too lauch. I
am that bey. I led you into the wood.
I forced you to go o:t in the dam with
me. I permitted you to fall in."
"And more than atoned for all by
risking your life to save me!"
Ah, that look of surprised delight
which accompanied her words! It was
worth all my past years of suffering,
of fancied blame; for in it I read how
dearly she held the memory of the boy
who had at least shared the danger
for which he was responsible.
I do not remember if she grasped
my hand or I grasped hers. At any
rate, we stood hand in hand, looking
into each other's faces.
I blessed the Providence that ended
my punishment; I blessed the good for
tune that had led me to a knowledge
of the kindly heart beside me.
Of all the moments of my life, I
still count it far the happiest.
Then we walked back through the
woods, over the intervening field, and
stood together leaning against the
feme bet'Acm the old school and her
hO'i.e.
We did not part after that for an
other ten years, which she spent as
my beloved wife. Then she left me
to go whence i can never recall her. ,
Yet there is a trysting place in th
woods, through which we once passed
as children, and often afterward as
lovers.
There I watch the flecked sunlight,
and mark the quietness, and it seems
to me that I can "hear the sitenee."
More than that, I know the pure
soul looks at ine through her honest
eyes New York Weekly.
THE JUDGE'S REPLY.
IIow Peace AVa Ketorcl ly a Mere
Test.
Judge Emory Speer, who presides
over" the United States Circuit and Dis
trict Courts for the Southern District
of Georgia, and whose decisions in
peonage cases have recently attracted
wide attention throughout the' country,
is the possessor of a nimble and facile
wit. In earlier days, before he had at
tained the ermine, Judge, Speer was a
politician and a power on the stump.
Shortly after reconstruction he ran
against Allen D. Chandler for Con
gress. Speer was a Republican, and
his politics sufficed to bring him un
popularity among a large majority of
the white population. It was his wit,
his good humor and his unfailing cour
age that carried him through the cam
paign without a serious difference, and
finally brought him to victory.
On one occasion when the young can
didate -was addressing a very democra
tic and hostile audience, a brawny
countryman was observed fighting his
way through the crowd to the speak
er's rostrum. It was evident that he
had spent the preceding night with
John Barleycorn, for-his clothes were
rumpled, his hair dishevelled and his
fce of a fiery red that rivalled the
noonday sun in brilliancy. Shaking a
belligerent fist under the nose of the
orator he exclaimed:
"Sir, you are a demagogue!"
The crowd howled, but Speer was
not disturbed. He waited for the noise
to subside and then, with a smile and
in a tone of entire good humor, re
joined: "And you, sir, if you would wrap a
few wisps of straw about you, would
bo a demijohn."
The delighted audience roared with
appreciative laughter, and the discom
fited. patriot .slunk away. Jt is said
that in no voting precinct of the dis
trict was Speers' majority larger than
that in which this happy retort was
made. Saturday Evening Tost.
Remarkable Pennsylvania Fond,
Lying between two hills not far from
Ilughesville is a small body of water
known as "Converse's ice dam," or
"fish dam," that is so full of the finny
tribe that apparently It is impossible
for a fish five inches long to swim
straight.
The small fish are on top and the
large ones below, and in order for a
fisherman or fisherwoman to get the
bait down to the big fellows it is
necessary to make a hole in the water
and carefully drop the hook down
through the wriggling mass.
On June 1 Mrs. Irvin Converse and
Miss Gladys Koch were at the dam
making, determined efforts to hook
some of the under ones. The little fel
low's on top"', however, made such fierce
attacks on the bait that their hooks,
time after time, were instantly cleared
as soon as they touched the water.
Many of the little fellows were pulled
out in order to make room for the
hooks, but the task had not been ac
complished when the reporter left the
scene. Williamsport Sun.
Criminal Bronco JSuating;.
There are several ways of breaking
a bronco to the saddle, of which the
most rational and least used is to begin
with the young colt and accustom him
by slow degrees to halter, blanket,
bridle and saddle. The usual practice
of the Indian is to choke the pony into
temporary submission and then ride
anil beat him until his spirit is broken.
Starving the pony into good behavior
Is an even more brutal method of sub-
J 11 U LIU II , 1111 II, tl UUUUu uv.uioivumij
employed with especially "mean" sub
jects, is deservedly unpopular, and a
cowboy could adopt it at the cost of
his reputation among his fellows. In.
this process the pony is tied to a stake
and starved, until from sheer weak
ness he accepts food without lashing
out with his heels. While yet feeble
from starvation he is gradually trained
with a sack to bear burdens, and fami
liarized with saddle and bridle until.
when Ins strength returns, he forgets
that he has never been regularly
broken. Country Life in America.
A Cutfl Oklahoma Woman,
The women of the Yankee States
mav flunk that tnev are clever at driv
ing bargains, but the claim Is made
here now. without evasion or equivoca
tion, that in Guthrie lives a woman
without a parallel for commercial wit.
Several months asro she entered a large
department store in New Y'ork City to
Duy a yaru oi sue, wnicn tne cieiw
cents. Her purchase left a remnant of
one and one-half yards, 1 no cleric sug
gested that she buy the remnant.
"What will you take for it?" asked the
Guthrie woman. "Twenty cents.
Madam." replied the clerk politely.
"Well. I'll take it. but yon can keep.
tlm !,! vnu'vi inst torn off" The
clerk .was staggered for a moment, but
appreciating the humor of the proposal
smilingly made the exchange. Not the
least merit of this story is that it is
true. Kansas City Times.
SOUTHERN i FARM.: fOTES.
3 D -
I TOUCS OF INTEREST TO THE PLANTER, STOCKMAN AND TRUCK GROWER.
Alfalfa a a Pagtnre Crop.
Alfalfa may be pasturedby all classes
of live stock, but it is not good prac
tice to pasture the plant too closely, for
its nature of growth is different from
the grasses, as it grows from terminal
and lateral buds and not by increase
in the length of stem and blades as
with the grasses. This is a very im
portant difference and explains why
the close grazing proves injurious. It
should never be grazed when the
ground is frozen or wet, for the tread
ing of the crowns will certainly result
in their destruction under these condi
tions and then the compacting of the
soil is a serious objection in itself. It
6hould not be grazed closely at any
time, for the gnawing down of the
crowns will often result in their de
struction. Where alfalfa is pastured
It should be run over with a mower to
even tip the growth and preserve a
uniform condition In the meadow. Al
ternating pasturing with hay making is
not seriously objectionable, but alfalfa
is so valuable for hay, soiling and
green feed that it is doubtful if it will
often be well to pasture it in the
Eastern States, where the difficulty of
establishing it is very considerable.
There is another objection to the pas
turing of alfalfa found in the fact that
It is very apt to make stock bloat. If
the weather is warm and wet and the
growth rapid, the danger of bloat is j
increased thereby; hence, additional j
precautions are necessary under these
circumstances. Sfock should never be
turned on alfalfa when they are hun
gry. They should first be given a full
feed and the dew allowed to evap
orate from the fields before they are
turned on. Under these conditions
they are not likely to be injured unless
they are allowed to graze on mature
or over-succulent alfalfa or that which
has been frosted. It is a mistake to
turn stock on young alfalfa. The plants
should be budding and getting ready
to bloom before grazing commences. If
animals are put on alfalfa when their
hunger is satiated they, will not eat too
much of it and so are not likely to
suffer from bloat. Once they are on
they should not be taken off until they
are taken off permanently. Should
bloat occur it may be cured in one of
several ways. From a pint to a quart
of linseed oil Avith a. teaspoonful or
more of turpentine will generally re
lieve the trouble. The dose should be
In proportion to the size and age of the
animal. In extreme cases the trochar
must be used. It is a preferable knife,
though some skill is required In using
either one to make the Insertion at the
right place.
Alfalfa is particularly valuable fl a
pasture for sheep. They seem to do re
markably well on it and are not as
subject to diseases of various kinds as
where they graze more closely to the
ground and thus come in contact .with
the various pests to which they are
subject and with which the ground
may be infected. This is a matter of
importance. In some sections of the
West alfalfa is often sown with grass,
particularly Bromus Inermis, for pas
ture purposes. This is not advisable in
the East, because it is difficult enough
to keep the grass out of an alfalfa'
meadow, whether of a desirable or un
desirable variety. Spring lambs may
be grazed on alfalfa to the greatest
advantage, and if a good pasture were
available on every farm In Virginia
It would add immensely to the profits
of the sheep growers and enable them
to raise larger, thriftier and better
lambs at a much lower cost and with
greater safety. The attempt to make
"hot-house" lambs on rich concentrated
foods is attended with many cases of
acute Indigestion, and there is often a
great loss to. the feeder and grower
even under the most careful system of
management. With alfalfa pastures
this could be largely obviated, and
the ewes and lambs maintained at. less
expense, for it would not be necessary
to feed more than one-half the amount
of grain usually fed. The alfalfa
would come on so early In many places
in -Virginia that it would insure Ideal
pasture for lambs and ewes at the
right season of the year, enabling the
feeders to turn their lambs off earlier
at heavier weights than they secure
at present.
As a pasture for swine, alfalfa Is un
excelled. Young pigs do finely pn It,
because it is a protein food and well
suited to their needs. The sweet, ten
der herbage is much relished, and if
given a small amount of grain, they
will grow very fast. In many sections
of the West they are grown with prac
tically no grain at all. though, of
course, they are not made fat by this
treatment. Alfalfa will carry a sur
prising amount cf pork per acre, it
being claimed from investigation at the
Kansas station that as much as 10fo
pounds may be made during a single
season and from ten to twenty fair
sized hags carried on nn acre of land.
For horses, there is nothing bettor
than alfalfa pasture, though trroat cat"
should be taken in getting them accus
tomed to it, as they are more subject to
(e) - d f
1
A
bloat on it than some other classes of
stock. It Is particularly valuable to
those who are engaged in the raising off
colts, as It furnishes a palatable muscl
and bone-building food of great value
to rapidly growing animals.
Alfalfa gives excellent satisfaction
when used as a soiling crop, and as It
comes on early in the spring, it can
often be used in this way to great ad
vantage. The first crop is more diffi
cult to make Into hay than any of th
others. Silage has often been made
from alfalfa, but corn and sorghum are
preferable for a number of reasons.
Generally speaking, alfalfa should be
made into hay in the East or used as
a soiling crop. Knoxville Journal and
Tribune.
Soil Inoculation For Alfalfa.
While many of the principles connect
ed with soil inoculation are not well
understood, it is generally recognized
as necessary to add cultures of desira
ble bacteria to soils where they do not
already exist. This may be accom
plished In one or two years; either by
means of artificial cultures or by the
use of soil from fields where alfalfa
has been grown successfully. Probably
the method of soil Inoculation is the
most certain. In fact, it has been tried
with uniformly good results. It is
very important to make certain that
the plants growing in the soil to be
used are well supplied with nodules.
Alfalfa does not produce nodules as
freely as cowpeas and soy beans, and
it will be impossible to discover the
nodules by pulling up the roots. To see
them it is necessary to take a shovel
or spade and dig deeply into the soil,
lifting the roots gently and separating
the earth therefrom. The nodules will
appear as little whitish, rounded balls
on the feeding roots and occasionally
on the main tap rot. Make certain
that the nodules are present in the soil
to be used as the medium of inocula
tion and your chances of success with;
alfalfa will be greatly increased. One
to two hundred pounds of soil to the
acre will be sufficient to secure inocula
tion. Mix with the seed or scatter
broadcast over the land and work in
with the harrow or sow through the
fertilizer attachment of any ordinary
grain drill. Inoculation is always best
accomplished before seeding, and larg
er amounts of earth will render inoc
ulation more certain. It is often very
difficult and expensive to obtain earth,
because of the scarcity of alfalfa fields,
and the objection on the part of farm
ers to digging up the soil. Most per
sons who have it for sale ask $1 a
hundred pounds for it and the frelghf
in addition makes it a considerable
item. X
In sections of the country where al
falfa has not been cultivated patches
of sweet clover (Melilotus alba) or burr
clover (Medicags Maculata) may be
found. Investigations made at the Il
linois and North Carolina stations in
dicate that the bacteria which live in
association with these plants are simi
lar or identical -Kith those found in the
nodules on the roots of alfal and
that soils taken from fields where eith
er one of these clovers has been suc
cessfully grown will inoculate land in
tended for alfalfa. In many places
burr clover is grown with profit as a
winter pasture, and if alfalfa is sown
on this land the following year It
should be well supplied with the nec
essary bacteria. Sweet clover might
be sown on land where difficulty has
been experienced in getting alfalfa, for
owing to its hardihood, it would often
succeed where alfalfa would fail, and
thus pave the way for the successful
inoculation of the latter crop. One se-,
rious objection to sweet clover Is the
fact that it seeds very freely, and un
less carefully clipped so as to prevent
seeding it may become a weed pest As
it is a biennial it can be destroyed by
vigorous clipping for two years. Pro
fessor Soule.
Troper Direction of Corn Row.
An important matter That has never
been settled is whether com rows ,
should run north and south or east and '
west. Some contend that north and
south rows give the stalks more sun
shine; that run the other way the
whole field is more, or less- shaded ex
cept the most southerly rows. Other
contend that the rows running east
and west give the rows the needed
protection against hot winds and burn
ing sunshine. Perhaps it would be bet
ter to disregard the cardinal points and
plant as indicated by the "lay of the
land," unless the land is quite flat.
There is more iu the cultivation than in
the direction In which the rows are
laid off. Farm and Ranch.
Plant TtaspbrrrT Plants In the Tall.
The principal advantage ii setting
raspberry plants in the fall '.j that lliey
are in their .place ready to grow as
soon as the season opns. Raspberry
plants start to grow oariy in the spring
and it is an item to have them In their
place when the season, opens. South--era
Fruit Grower.