VOLUxME II.
OXFORD, N. C., WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 22, 1876.
NUMBER 47.
ON CAR'I'II AKD ONE IN
HEAVEN.
BY IBEN E. BEXPORD.
Up from the street below mo,
Tlirougli the twilij;ht’s ductygloom;
Is borne the laugh of the ehihlren
To HIP, in my lonely room.
Asul I listen to them, thinking,
Of a little voice I knew,
And I see, in a swifr^ still vision,
A grave in the evening dew.
Wheie tlie pansies are all a-blossom,
And the west wind whispers low,
That it may not wake the sleeper
Whom I missed so long ago.
I have missed my blue-eyotl baby
So many years from my breast!
' Sntnmcra have come and vanished
With times of tears and rest.
But sitting here in tlie twilight,
My heart cries out caeli day,
For the wee little thing I loved so
That the daisies liide away,
Cries out with a wild, vain yearning
To hold to my breast once more.
In the arms that are ul'.vays empty.
The beautiful babe I biire.
I say to myself, in moments
When the children’s laugh I hear,
‘Tf my little one only weia* living—
The child that I hold so near—
He would be a child no longer,
But grown to man’s estate.”
The', 1 fi-cl tim hot U-ars coming.
And my lo'art ciic -nn at fate,
And I icreied my h.ands out Idimlly,
And ii 'meiiuKs see'.ns *>' me
I';,;,' n-oalui’s Uiifcr anguish
Is tije iiiitria st tinit (Viu be.
r,.echiidren are going homeward,
And the streets a-e gn'u ing still,
But my thoughts are stiil on my baliy
In the grave upon tlie iiill.
Out in the night’s white silence.
Out in the Summer dew.
And yet he is safe in heaven !
Oh, ttiystery old, yet new I
And it seems that I have two children;
The grave hides one away.
And *np. in the dear Ood’s kingdom,
Is waiting for me to-day.
TIGHT BOOTS ENIIEAETHV.
It might seem almost incredi
ble tliat so many of tlie young
persist in wearing boots at least
one size too short, and still more
faulty in reference to the width.
It is strange that an idea should
jirevail tliat a small foot is any
more creditable to a young lady
than a small brain, a small heart,
or a small amount of common
sense, and yet it is true that very
few are willing to wear an east'
and comfortable boot, one resem
bling the form and width of the
foot. When the Uhinese, as a
jmnishmeiit for the treachery ol
women, condemned them to wear
from infancy a small, unt’ielding
slioe, that the}’ might be so crip
pled as never to be able again to
betray them, it certainly had a
look ol malice, and savage re
venge, such as we might expect
from the “heathen Chinee” of
centuries in tlie dim past. But
why young ladies in the nine
teenth century, or young fops,
should subject themselves to this
self-imposed punishment, the toi-
tiires of corns, bunions, enlarged
and goutv joints, and genera; de
formity, is difficult lO see, save on
the supposition that Dame Fash
ion is not onl\ very unreasonable
and senseiens in her demands, but
very exacting in her requirements.
If small and beantifnl feet are
really ornamental, ha >nch re
member that the wearing of too
small boots will certaiul}' dotorm
'hem, ih.'str..t" oo'ir symmetry, as
ail imr, liy examination ol
ixt-r thus ,1 oipix-.-'.-sBci, crocfled in
to . smai; a s[)aee, cranqa'd and
diaiigt-ii in ilieii' torm by uairow
boots, riiese errors, anu ivith
the small and high heel added,
have much to do witli the many
deformities of the feet, while it
must be admitted that a natural
foot, though large and differing
somewhat from the usual torm, is
more comely than one pinched
and abused till it assumes an un
natural shape. In the natural
foot a straight line from the cen
ter of the lieel will extend to the
end of the large too, parallel to
the line of that toe, but in far too
many instances, when a tight
boot is worn, especially with a
high heel pressing the foot for
ward, tliat toe turns inward of
necessity, since it strikes the end
of the boot, and, from its length,
must turn to one side or tlie other,
usually inward. When too nar
row, also, with insufficient room
for sill, one or more of the toes
must be pressed up, overlapping
another. It is possible, therefore,
to buy a small arid genteel boot,
but one cannot in consequence of
sncli a purcliase Inive a small and
genteel foot, if to be small is gen
teel. Tlie foot will increase in
size and deformity by such a
course of cruel treatment.
THE BEESSIiVOS «F WOMAN'S
SOCIETT.
All men who avoid female so
ciety, sa\s ’FiiackeraA', have dull
p'rfej.Uons, and are .stu)ii(i, aiiu
liave gross tastes, and revuit
against what is pnre. Your chio
swaggerers who are sucking the
butts of billiard cues all night,
call female society insipid. Poet
ry is as uninspiii.ig to a yokel;
beauty has no charms for a blind
man; music does not please
a poor beast, who does not know
one tune from aiiotlier; but, as a
true epicure is hardly eyer tired
of water, sauce, and brown bread
a.ad blitter, 1 protest I can sit for
a whole night talking to a well
regulated, kindly woman about
her daughter Eaniiie or her boy
Frank, and like the evening’s en
tertainment. One of the greatest
benelits a mail can derive from a
■woman’s society is that he is
bound to be respectful to her.
The habit is of great good to
your morals, men, depend upon
It. Our education makes us the
most eminently selfish men in the
world, and the greatest benefit
that V, e have is to think of some
body to whom we aie bound to
be constantly attentive and re
spectful.
WIIAT WIVES DO.
“ A man,” say’s Rousseau, “ is
only what a woman makes him.”
This remark may be exaggerated,
but that it contains enough of
truth to give it vitality’,is attested
by the biographies of great men.
The wife of the late Dr. Buck-
land, the geologist, used to write
from his dictation for hours at a
time. She furnished many of the
drawing's with which his works
are illustrated, and skillfully and
dexterously mended many of the
tossils. “ For forty years,” wrote
Carlyle on the tombstone of his
wife, “ she was the true and lov
iiig lielp.iiate of her husband, and
bv act and not’d niiweariedh’
forwarded him, as none else could,
in all of worthy that he ever did
or attempted.” Thu autiior of tiie
“ Song ol the Shirt,” Thomas
ilood, tiius wrote of his wife, “ 1
iiuVui watj anything, dearesl, till
I knew you, and i have been a
better, happier and more prosper
ous man ever since. Wliatever
may befall me, the wife of my’
bosom will have the acknowledg-
meiit of her tenderness, worth and
excellence from my pen.” A
writer in Cassell's Magazine thus
describes the aid given to her
husband by the wife of the great
Scotch philosopher :
“Tile wife of Sir William Ham
ilton Professor of Logic in the
University of Edinburg, was a
true helperto her husband; indeed,
it is more than probable that
without her, many’ of his best
woiks would never have been
written. AVIien he was elected
to the professorship, some of his
opponents declared pnidicly that
lie would never be able to fulfil
the duties of his position, as he
was nothing but a dreamer. He
and his wife heard of this and de
termined to prove it was not true.
They’, tlierefore arranged to work
together. Sir William wrote out
roughly’, each day, the lecture
that was to be given the next
moniiiig; and as he wrote his
wife copied it out; and again
and again they sat up writing till
far into the night. When Sir
William was struck down witli
paralysis, the result of overwork
Lady Hamilton devoted herself
entirely to him —wrote for him,
ami saved him in every’ way’.”
'I’lIE 'I'lMiOn V OF OKATORS.
A writer in the Fortnightlg lie-
view asks whether artists, and
especially’ orators, are peculiarly
liable to the sensation of pain or
fear. He thinks that they’ are,
and attributes it to an nnusuallv
sensitive organization’ Peel was
believed to have owed his death
to being unable to bare an oper
ation which a less sensitive man
might have borne. An en.iiiBut
operator described Bishop W’il-
berforce as a “bundle of nerves,”
and as the most sensitive patient
he had ever known. Orators, as
a rule, show a painful anxiety
about tlieir own speeches, and
toilsome uneasiness seems a con
dition of tneir success. Ajnt.ior
counsel once congratulated Sir
William Folleton his perfect com
posure in prospect of a great case.
Sir AV.IH tin merely asked his
friend to teel his hand, which was
wet witli anxiety’. The late Lord
Derby said tliat his principal
speeches cost him Ivvo sleepless
nights—-one in whicli lie was
thinking what to say, the other
in which he was lamenting what
he might have said better. Cicero
according to Plutarch, “not only
wanted courage in arms, but in
Ills speaking also ; he began tim
idly, and in many’ cases be scarce
ly’ left off trembling and shaking
even when he got tlioroughly'
into tlie current and substance
of his speech.”
THE EAIVD OP THE ROD.
Russia, despotic and semi-bar
baric, is the land of the whip and
the rod, the Russians, from time
immemorial, having been govern
ed by the lasli. Corporal punish
ment, in various forms, by rod or
stick or whip, is freely and indis
criminately applied to offenders
of every’ description. A rod is
still the chief instrument in the
hands of the municipal and police
authorities, and even the officials
themselves are not safe from such
discipline. Many of the Russian
monarchs were adepts in using
the whip, and were particularly
ingenious in tormenting those
around them. It i.s well known
that during the reign of Peter 1.
it was the custom of tiiat mon
arch to punish those nobles that
offended him by the imperial or
der that they should become fools.
Prom that moment the unfortu
nate victim, however endowed
with intellect, became the laugh
ing stock of the whole court. He
had the privilege of saying any
thing he pleased; but it was'a
questionable advantage, since it
could only be exeicised at the
peril of being kicked or horse
whipped, the fool bfiingforbidden
to offer any kind of resistance.
The married women of Russia,
according to various writers, look
upon a sound wliipping on the
part of their husbands as an ex
pression of affection. The story
is told of a handsome Russian
lady, married to a Frenchman,
who, after fourteen days of su
preme happiness, became very-
sad and melancholv, showing
signs of a most profound grief
The young husband being very-
anxious to know the cause of her
sorrow, she explained tlie matter,
after much questioning on his
part, by saying : “ How can I
believe that you love me ? We
have already been united nearly
four weeks, and you have not
beaten me once !” The husband
was deliglited to learn that her
grief could so easily be assuaged,
and lost no time in procuring a
tender and elegant rod, with
which, on suitable occasions, lie
bestowed u|ion her the necessary-
tokens of his love.
—Respect for the body- ecclesi
astical, does not prevent the trav
eling of this story’ throngli the
English papers. The Bisiiop of
Lichfield lias a taste for walking,
and on one occasion, some time
ago, lie walked from a chnroli in
the back country to the railway’
station, where he was to take the
train for home. On the way’ he
happened to observe a group of
men sitting togetheroiitheground,
and immediately’ resolved to “ say’
a word in season” to tliem, after
the fashion of the fashion of the
Caliph Haroiin, or the average
tract distributor.
“Well, my good men,” said his
lordsliip, incognite, “what are you
doing I”
The response of one of the
men was not calculated to please
and encourage the amiable pre
late. “ AVe bill a loyin,”’ he said.
“ Lying!” said the horrified
Bishop. “ AA^hat do y’ou mean
“ AVliy-, yer see,” was the ex
planation, “ one of ns fun a ket
tle, and we bin a try’iri’ who could
tell the biggest lie to have it.”
“ Shocking !” said the Bishop,
and straightway-, improving the
occasion, he proceeded to impress
upon the sinners the enormity of
ly’ing. He informed them that
he had been taught that one of
the greatest sins was to tell a lie,
and in fact, so strongly had this
been urged upon him, that never,
in the whole course of his life,
had he told a lie. AA^ould that
we might relate how those wick
ed men were moved and charmed
by the recital of so niucli saintli
ness.
Alas ! no sooner had the excel
lent Bishop made this announce
ment, than there was a gleeful
shout : “ Hie th’ governor th’ ket
tle ! Gie th’ governor th’ kettle !”
W’OMEM AS IVERSES.
A friend writes as follows: “It
seems to mo a very improper
thing for a woman to be a doctor,
but I am quite satisfied to have
her a nurse, and I wish tlie Her
ald of Health would take tliis view
ot the case and advocate the pro
fession of nurse for woman; butad-
vise against their becoming doctors.
To this we reply we have no
objection to woman being nnrse.»,
if they prefer, nor men either. It
is a kind of work wliicli requires
many of both sexes. But there
are reasons why a woman well
qualified by nature should desire
t.) be a pliysician rather than a
nurse, and these reasons are as
follows ;
1. It is more lucrative—medi
cal fees are much higher than
nurses’ fees.
2. The work is easier. There
is no labor harder than to bo a
professional nurse, subject to the
call of the sick at all hours of the
day or night.
3. '^riie labor of a professional
nurse, contrary to what is gener
ally known, exposes one to much
more indelicacy than the work of
a physician. Many think a phy
sician must do all sorts of indeli
cate work, if it is indelicate, it is
done by the nurse at the order of
tlie physicirn. AYe have no
words against nurses, but desire
to correct the impression that it
is any more improper to be the.
one than the other. It is only’
custom that makes some people
think so.—Herald of Jlcalth.
—“There can be no true bond
among the wicked.” This is il
lustrated by the stoiy of the tlireo
German robbers. Having acquir
ed by various atrocities a valua
ble booty, they agreed to divide
tlieir spoil and retire from so dan
gerous a vocation. AVhen the
day arrived which they appointed
for this purpose, one of them was
despatched to a neighboring town
to imrchase provisions for tlieir
carousal; the other two in his
absence agreed to murder him on
his return, that tliey might coino
in for a half of the plunder instead
of a third. They’ did so, but it
did not benefit them, for after
partaking of the feast which lie
had procured they found that
their comrade had previously
poisoned the provisions in order
that he might take all of tlie spoil
and the three were afterwards all
found dead together.—Lacon.
—Perhaps the most melancholv
life is that of the professed merrxT
maker. Yon remember the an
swer of the woebegone stranger,
when the phy-sician advised liim
to go and hear the great come
dian of the day : “ Y”ou should go
and hear Matthews.” “ Alas, sir,
I am Matthews !” Akin to which
is the account of one who for
many’ y’ears manufactured mirtli
for the great metropolis, the writer
of diverting stories, and the soul
of every’ festive party which was
able to secure his presence. But
even when keeping all the com
pany in a blaze of hilarity, his
own heart was broken ; and at
one of these boisterous scenes,
glimpsing his own pale visage in
tlie glass, lie exclaimed, “Ah, I
see how it is, I look just as I am
—done up in mind, in body, and
in purse,” and went home to sick
en and die.
.1