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;V ; - ,;-JM :v--;v:.-Y -. v;:; '- L P'p:-: if 1 fi'lf i : "inn ' CHARLES B. AYCOCK, Editor. j $1.50. PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE. FOR THE PUBLIC GOOD. VOL. IT. CHAPEL 1ILLL, N. C., SAXITltDAY, DECEMBER 6, 1879. T0. 8.. i 1 1 i i it t ; ! t i' I ! . i 1 1 ; i !! i j ' t ' ! . i - t ! i i ' -v Entire NEW Stock A?A,,.;.., . " AT THE LOWEST PRICE A Choice Assortment of Styles and Fabrics at ' . i ' ' Great Success. Prices Further Reduced to Suit the Times. Every thin at m "Rarcrnin nnd fin misrnrppntnlinn. " . 1 respect fally inTlto a look from DRESS GOODS ! '! Black Silk and Fancy Silks from FIFTY CENTS upwards. . i ; . - ' J LAWNS, GRENADINES, ORGANDIES, DRESS LINENS, FERCALS, &c. : ' . F : KID GLOVES! KID GLOVES I am Headquarters for kid Gloves. WHITE GOODS Piques, Iriih Linen, Bleached Domestic Sheetine, tc., a very full lot. CORSETS. HOSIEltY and KID GLOVES. - - " I offer many new attractions In; this line this season. NECK WEAR AND! NOTIONS. Xew Dflgn In ladies Ties, "White and Colored Zephyr Ties. sJkc. Ribbons, Fans, Dress Buttons, : Silks, Fringe?, &c, Ac., &o. FARA50LS and UMBRELLAS In i GENTS' SHIRTS ' Laundried and Unlaundried Shirts sold Verj 1 T r Carpets, Malting and Floor Oil Cloth. " i Mv Lin- of these Goods is Equal to i j ' Y . and I Guarantee my I A Magnificent ! , ,! ; ! j BRUSSELS All New Designs, for 75 ticnts per yard. : ! MATTINGS Red, White and Chccked,;some of the best grades imported. j 1 New and Beautiful Designs in Rugs, Door Mats of the Best Fabrics, and Floor Oil Cloths in the Uest r-xxra vu.u.. Simple. Mailed Free with pleuar e dW aPPcatloa to any parties desiring to purchase. Prompt Altenllon Given to Orders. J.N. tAa UM v j MAIN STREET, 'IijIMIA, IVprth Carolina. gAVE YOUR MONEY- . ' r I . i ' . ; 1 I " ' i . I . - - - : . V ' ' i ,. BABBEE'S DliUG STORE ,: ; ' . r -; ir' ' .: ; . : . ' j ! ; is headquarters 1 - : i 1 1 FojFure Drugs, Genuine Medicines, &c EVERYTHING USUALLY KEPT IN; A ' ! ; v " TIP TOP' DUUG HOUSE. l : f- 1 J Very Low Pr ces. 9 nr ' I ' " all wliobuy Flrst-Class Goods. A SPECIALTY. Newest Designs and Clebrated niakef AND GASSIKERES. and Fine Cassimere. Bought to be Low. any and Second to none in the State, PRICES AS LOW. Line of tapestry. t i Fas i - f GAMMON 111 lie f - . !AFTER THE RAIN. I hard a hong:' on the moorland brown. Wbtn the day crew fair and Ion? : Methonj kt no roioe In the nefaiy towa Coald elnj to sweet a song. r ? It wae a herd toy, all alone " ; ' 1 Alozie on the showery plain Wbo eang with a silrer trumpet tone, , The sunshine follows the rain." My thoughts turn back to that April day As I pace the city street ; y Bat the bron, brown mcor Yen far away , From the tread of weary feet ; . , Yet erer the soua: rugs clear and loud. Oyer and over again, Above the Uui cf the restless erdwdr' "." "The sunshine follows the rain." ' ' Ood knows It is hard to fret and strive Tor the gold that soon is spent ? . , It seems sometimes that the tinners thrire. While eaints are less content i Tut He knows, too, that" "the clouds will part And the hidden path grow plain ; XHs angels slnpr to the doubting heart, Tbe sunnhino follows the rain." - 5SS5 Susi8's Gift. The days were rrowing dark for Qeorge Graham. His studious habits Imd resulted in an affection of the eyes that threatened to prow eerious. This vraa his last term at school, and if he passed his examination creditably, he was to have a place in Solomon Grant's store, with wages that would not only take care of himself, but greatly help his mother. , His mother was a widow, and George's i love for her was" a sort Of passion of devo tion. , j ' lie was 1 very fond of Susie Hale, but Susie was only a nice girl to him a dear, sweet, good girl, such as any fellow would like ; but his mother was the lady to whom was due his love, bis care, hJs uttermost duty. r The plans jhc made in life were all for his mother sake.; "What if thi3 growing dizziness about him was to increase until all was dark? What if he must be no help to his mother, but only a burden on her forever ? ' His scholarship had been so fine that his tutor hesitated to reprovo his now continual failures; and George said nothing of the increasing darkness around him to his mo ther, for ho ifelt that it would break her heart ; nothing to teacher or schoolmates, for it seemedj to him that his grief would be nothing to th.cm. But one afternoon the crisis can c. ' ' " No one wlio was present that day not even the smallest child will, ever forget the look of wild despair that swept over George Graham's face, or the gesture of helpless anguish with which ho stretched out his hands as if, to seek among them all some friend, as he cried- "God help ine, I have been going blind, and now I cannot see one figure in my book!" ( I There wasa silence after this, through which came pb sound but the audible beat ing of George Graham's tortured, despairing heart. j Then the master sent away the others, for school hours were nearly over, and tried his best to comfort his stricken pupil. The words! of 'the teacher entered his ears, but they ;ditf not reach his heart or kindle his hopjs. As soon as he could he went away. He did not go straight home, llow'oould he face his mothei1 and tell her what he must tell her now ? j . He sat dowri oa a bank a little removed from the road Mde, a bank which overhung a swift, deep yet narrow stream. An awf ul temptation came over him. To be sure to die would be to leave his mother to fight; her battle of life alone but also it would relieve her from tno heavy burden he must needs be to her if he lived. The river rushing down there below in vited him with its murmur. He bent forward over the stream. Then he drew back, for a longing came over him to go home first and see his mother just once more. ; ; "See her! ' What ! am I talking about? Do I not know I shall never see her again." And a girl's voice, soit and tender, an unexpected voice, answered him "Yes, you will see her again. Surely vou will sec her again!" , The boy turned his face towards the sound. . tt i o "How did you come-here, Susie Hale.- "Don't be angry, George,' the gentle voice entreated. "I waited for you. I could hot go home till I had told you how sorry I was, and tried to comfort you. You must take heart and try to be cured. I have known people who could not see at all, to be helped, and why not you ? At least you must try." . An evil mood was upon George Graham., and he answered, harshly i "Where is the money to come trom, 11 rou please? It has been all mother could do' just to live, and she has struggled on in the expectation of my being able soon to helDher, She has no money for experi ments. : There is nothing for it.but for? me to rest a dead weight upon her hands, nr die " - ' "You believe in God, George Graham, and vou will not defy him. If he means you to Dear this you will bear it hke a man and not try to get rid of the burden. Just now, it seems to toe, you ought to go home. Would you hke your mother to hear this from someone else ?" 1 He rose slowly - "You are right," he said, 4nd you are a good girl. Good bye, Susie. . , She did not try to go with him ; she fol lowed him only with her eyes. - His mother met him at the gate. , When she took his hands in hers the poor fellow felt that she knew all. She was very quiet and self controlled. . - j . . "Your tutor has been here," she said, "and he 'has' told me. My darling, why have you sat in the darkness, and shut your mother out from any share in your trouble ?" "."Oh, I couldn't tell you, mother," he sobbed. "I couldn't. I thought it would break your heart."; Meanwhile, Susie Hale had. gone home full of an absorbing purpose. Somehow money must and should be raised to try what a skillful oculist could do for George Graham. 8usie was the orphan niece of Solomon Grant. - . j $he knew that she had a modest little fortune of her own, but it was all in her uncle's hands, and without his consent she could not dispose even of her slender in come. - j ; "Rut. would hft not bo Dersuaded to let her have enough cf her own money to accom plish her desire ? j- Sir: .asked him, using her utmost power of" persuasion to touch his heart, but he re fused with peremptory decision. Susie had in the world one treasure, a diamond ring, which had been her mother's, with a stone white and clear as a "dewdrop. This must, she knew, be worth hundreds. It was her own. She had meant to keep it all her life for her mother's- sake, but surely this great need of George Graham's Justified her in parting- with it. She had one friend in whose good faith and judicious management she felt implicit confidence, and to him she sent her mother's ring, with the request that he would sell it as speedily and on as good terms as possible, and remit her the price of it in bank notes, and keep foi her the secret- that she had disposed of it. i i It was a week after George Graham had given up hope, when a most unexpected hope came to him. j A neighbor, going by from the post office, handed in at tho door a letter afldrsssed to him. Mrs. Graham opened it. 'George," she cried, after a moment, in an eager, trembling voice, "hero are one hundred dollars, and this is the letter that comes with them " 'This money is from a true friend of George Graham's, and is to be applied to taking him td an oculist, in the hope that his sight may be restored. The giver with holds his name, both because he desires no thanks, and because he wishes to make the return of the money impossible.' j "It is from Heaven itself," the mother cried. "George, I feci in my soulHhat you are to be cured." - i Tho next day a mother and her blind son sought rooms at a quiet little house .in the city, and the day after that they were among the earliest patients .of Doctor An cesly. ; j - 1 The flrvst examination of- George's' eyes was unpromising enough, and the doctor wanted to see him daily.. There were weary days and weeks that followed, and it was curious that the mo ther was always hopeful, , and the son always despairing, j ! At last it almost irritated him to hear her speak of hope to him, and one day he turn ed on her with the first burst of passionate imp'atience she had j ever experienced from him. i v : "Mother," he said, "for the love of Heaven do not talk to me as if it was a sure thing, that I am going to see again. I want to ihink it doubtful, almost impos sible. : If you should make me expect a sure cure, and then lit shouldn't come, don't you see that I should go mad? I thinkT should dash my head against the wall. I can only live by expecting nothing." After that the toother held her peace, but whenever she went out of that darkened room those who saw her marveled, at the light of joy in her eyes. J j At last the time! came; the bandag was removed, there was just one wild cry : i "Mother, I see you!" and then George lay at the doctor's feet, swooning in his great joy. - It was weeks j'et before he went home again, but the good news preceded him, . The mother wrote to Solomon Grant, who had agreed still to Keep the place open while awaiting the result of the experiment. Solomon read the letter in full family conclave. I Je little-knew how his niece longed to snatch the paper from his hand and read it for herself ; nor did he heed the tears that swam jn her dark eyes, tears of such deep, unselfish joy as onl a loving woman knows. Another letter came afterwards to tell when the widow and her son werq o re turn. ! , '. . ' It was Susie who walked over early in the afternoon, carrying with her a basket of dainties for the travelers' supper, i : Susie's black eyes danced, and her heart sang within her as she set the table in the little parlor and lighted a fire in the kitchen stove, ready to make a fresh cup of tea whenever the widow and her son should arrive ;i And atiast the travelers came, as at last everything does come, if we wait lonir enough for it. I They had expected to find an empty house; they found instead warmth, and brightness, and good cheer, and Susie Hale. ! -Had George Graham-grown through his trial into a man's j perception of a girl's charms, or had his eyes been holden before, that he 6hould not see? V I only know thaUhat night, for the5 first time in his life, it dawned upon him lhat another woman might some day dispute with his mother the empire of his heart. ) But it was not until five years afterwards, when Mr. Grant had taken him into part nership, and Mr. Grant's niece, Susie, had become his wife, that George Graham ever miessed from whose tender hands had come the gift by means of which he had been re stored to hope and: happiness. - - The experimental cotton factory .at Atlanta, Ga.. jis getting along, with otderiahead for GOO, 000 yards ot cloth. caster county farmers have not provided sulHcient storing ae- Comodations iorww L.. of nisspilins:.j Beatinz Booth. George Ninaman, was seated alone In the sitting room of a small hotel in Arkansas, when the dor of an inner room" opened, and a tall;' wild-eyed bushy-haired man on tvred. . Without saying a word he ieated himself and began staring at Nlnamaa, who, thinking until then that he- was alone in the house exhibited hia surprise by open ing his eyes as wide as though he had sud denly received an order for ten thousand dollars. Presently a conversation was be gun, and the man exhibited such intelli gence that JNinaman'a fears were ! allayed, especially as the man claimed j to be the landlord's brother. The conversation turn ing on literary subjects, the man remark ed:. : " ' -''.' . . Did you ever hear Hamlet's soliloquy recited properly?" . jfi ! "I think so," said Ninaman,',"I have heard Booth and regard him as a superior elocutionist."" . ! 1 'Booth does' not catch the spirit, " said the strange looking man, his eyes almost blazing; He fails to engraft the twig of despair onto the tree of. Hamlets natuif .: Would you like to hear, "it recited propef ly?" ' ' V ' ' ' ; ""Yes." "Are you sure that you would?" . "Yes, I am fond of good elecution." ' You shall hear it. I hope nothing trag ic will occur, but,' by the superiority of Moses you shall have it." , I " Arising, the wild-eyea man aartea into fin nrHnininer rrinm. find mtumed with a larffe navy pistol. Placing thee pistol on the table he seated himself and j remained awhile with his head resting in his hands. Raising up he began, in a voice- so - deep and With an air so wild that jNinaman wild maii I a sea Of them," he started in wonder. When the came to "take up arms, agams trouble and, by opposing, end r1nri!fl .flip, muzzle asrainst his head. His eyes blazed ana nis air was oi aesperauon, ""F.ni tViom ' h vpIIpH. Rnriiifnn'Er from his K'VV - " tZ 5 . . from his seat and flourishing the pistol en1 thorn TUltll vnil?" "Shall I Kinaman explained, trembling, that his troubles were not greater than: j he could bear, and requested the man to: lay aside the pistol. ' , ' : k "Ah, I see that you do not iiko irageay, vou no doubt use comeay. iance, sir. Pull off your coat and dance oi ' ! I'll end yeur'life." ' I ; I The pistol was levenea, ana iNinaman rang to his feet pulled off his Coat and be gan dancing. , . I "W hoop it up," yeiiea tne man, -er hi end them. Pull off your pants. , h ' Tho rtants came off and1 dancini eentin- ucd. . 'Pull off your drawers. " The drawers went off. "Off with yourshirt.' The 6hirt went off. A "I noise . outsiae. The landlord, his wife and daughter were on the porch 1 "Let me go, for God's sake,!? pleaded I'll kill vou if voul attempt to Ninarcan. leave. You are a comedian. " i The door knob turned: SJN inaman sprang toward a door. The pistol snapped. Open ing it he; rushed up stairs.' 1 In a "few minutes the landlord pame up and handed Niuaman his clothes saying: I lorgot to tell you that my brother is de ranged. He has ah old pistoL ;but you couldn't hurt anything with it. (He is perl fectly harmless but likes to engage ia his wHdjokesV ;. .1 Vt ' Next morning the wna man, in numor: so good that he seemed simple,4proposed thnt. ho could beat Ninamanthrowinff rocks at anloyster can Ninaman's ambitipn now is to "rope in somQ other arummen The Oplam Habit. ! "Tell me something, Doctor ibout the effects of the drug when taken as a stimu lant." 11 "The first effects are highly stttnulating. This continues foi a longer or shfrter per iod, according to the habit and constitution ofthe patient. Then follows a? soporific condition a tendency to sleep, ' which is very pleasant. lne dooks say mat in ,1 vnfrtnrtll AT ft ! DTnln ID ft grain, opium produces a soothing and luxu rious calm, lonowea usuany in? xoriy or fifty minutes by a disposition to seep or re pose from outward impressions, jwhile the mind is calm and dreamy.", j ' "Those are. the effects ot- a proper uoae, as prescribed by a physician ; but how about the excessive use of. thej drug? . Is the system not greatly injured thereby If" "Those who use tne gum, o cruae opi um, Chew It UKC tODaCCO. lUra eicussivc use destrovs the appetite, gives pe victim a haggard" lxk, and shatters hs nervous system. I know a young lawye- who is a slave to opiuni, and who is neverin a con dition to address a jury, or even talk to advantage, except when he Is under its in fluence. When he has any particular work to do, he primes himself with a heavy dose, and then he becomes voluble BUd brilliant. Ooium stimulates the reasoning powers, loosens the tongue, and makes the subject unusually bright and penetrating "What a grand thing it would be if the effects were only lasting." j r. ' " Yes, but the reaction speedily follows,; and the poor opium-eater soon begins to feel like a man at the tail end of a big drunk." "What are the effects upon the minds of those who usually use opium ?"( I "It gradually saps the mental 'vigor, and the subject, in the. lapse of years,. becomes seemingly indifferent to things around hinxr He has'often a vacant stare, as though he was thinking of things not connected with those of time and sense. The habit, sooner or later, will destroy both the mind and the body, although mary use the drug for years; and apparently look well." ; J "In what form, Doctor, is opium gener- ally administered?'', ; ; ' ; i ... , i . "Physicians usually prescribe it in the tincture as laudanum, paregoric, etc. and in the form of salts andjpowder.f The best results are obtained by adrninistering it in the liquid form. Hypodermic injections that is, injecting the liquid under the skin, by means of a syringe with.a needle attach- mnt--i the .safest, and most acourate me thod. Th most salutary eff:ets eaa be produced In this way." "But do not people get these pyrinxee, . and use them oa themselves t" "They do ; and that ia where the trouble . comes in. ; They use them too often and . Injure themselves." . . ' '..' "Physicians in the east, particularly In New York and Pinladelphia, haTi obser ved an alarming Jncrease in the' use of the hj-TiodermfcInjection, and might not a slm- . ilar increas3 take! place here!' ; "I i cannot thick tho! number would in crease rapidlyi for tho reason that it is only those who have been treated medically for some 'ailment that get to understand the use of the instrument. T At all events, this would be tho least injurious form of using . the drug as" .the. doses are very accurately measured. When the gum alone Is "used -the person chewing it has no accurato idea of the quantity he consumes". The appo tite for it increases steadily; as its constant use deadens sensibility to irs exbiliratlng V qualities. So thosa who use it iq the form of laudanum, or in the powder, are con stantly increasing tho dosos until they are able to consuma enormous quantities of It." "What nuantitr of 'ODlum. Doctor. does it take to kill a person?" "In the form of laudanum, one teaspoon f ul will kill a person not habituated to its use. There are eight teaspoonfuls in an ounce, so that one ounce, properly distrib uted, would kill eight persons. Yet I have known- persons to take as high as tbreo or four ounces in a day, dividing tho quan-. tity into, several doses. , In the form of a morphia powder, one-sixth of a grain equals one grain of opium, and one grain of opium is equal to twenty or twenty-five drops of laudanum. I had in my practice tho case of a. woman who had been in the habit of faking a teaspoonful of powdered morphia " daily ? One grain of the powder will kill a . person, and yet there are those who use a drachm or more each day enough to kill sixty persons ! Such cases, jipwever, aro exceptional.' They are in the last stages, and utterlv bevond the reach of Cure. They must have the stimulant at any cost : with out it they would die, and with it th end soon comes. Milk Injections in Veins. ' .. : .' i . i A fiimnle wav of effecting' this Dnrnose has been revealed bv some 'recent experi ments of Prof .Thomas of this citr. whoso observations on tho intra-venous injection or milk have attractea tne general attention of the medical profession In ono of Prof. Thomas' cases, the patient was moribund when the hrst injection oi warm iuiik into her veins was made, and. the unanimous opinion of the assembled physicians wai that death was inevitable.- Life , was pro longed six days by m?ans of five injections, varying in Quantity from eight to fifteen ounces. From this land other cases, Dr. Thomas concludes tli'at tho inlection of milk Into the circulat ion in place of blood is a perfectly sate ana ieasioio oporanon, easier to nerform than transfusion of blood. and of equal efficiency in cas3 of exhaus tion from profuse and repeatea neraorru ncres. These exnerimentB are in curious agreement with thosa of Dr. Wulfsberg performed on raODits ana aogs in inefauor jitorv of Professor Mamie at Gottingcn. After bleeding the animals until all move ments of respiration and circulation had ceased, Dr.-Wulfsterg injected ' milk Into their veins. The ODeration wasjnstantane- oasly followed by rythmical contractions of the. heart, and finally bv re-establishment of respiratory movements, and, what is more singular still, upon tneir cessation, ancr uio stimulant had srjent its force, life move ments were excited again by repeating the injection Some of the moribund ddjs even barked under the influence of the milk. The microscopic relations of this subject would be of no interest to tne general reaaer, but the'f act that (life movements, whether byexcitation of the nervous centers , or by direct irritation of the hearj, can be restor. ed after they have ceased, in a manner it once so simple and so readily applied, it 'of the utmost practical importance. Measurement of Distances. , A new I instrument for measuring dis tances bv sight is among tho recent inven tions in England, in this arrangement tuo uistance of any object is ascertained by Rirrmlv reading? off uoon a scale marked on the base of a right angled triangle the number of divisions which are equivalent to the ansrle of two lines of 6urht denoted by an index scale; the two sides of the trl- angle thatia the perpenaicuiar ana mo hpothenuse are the two lines of sight to the object, and thelength of the baso vane with the distance of the ob1ect!observed at the jinex ot the trianjrle. TbCi distance of the Hamft is measured by the length of base required to enable the line of sight to meet the object of the oblique lino, line of sight iri the instrument alonsr a radius arm, the angle The oblique is obtained of which to thft'hase rnav be set at pleasure. The part of the instrument forming the other line of sight at right angles to the jbase has a sliding action along the base, so as to cna able the latter to be lengthened or reduced, but is always at right angles! to it. For the base, a space is divided of 6.282 inchea thus allowing the decimal readings of the length of the base to be obtained 6.282 being the proportion o'f circle circumfer ence to radius. A scale is provided by means of which the radius arm may be set for oblique line of sight to the decimal of a degree. . The process of reading off tho distance Of an object on the instrument ii in this wise: As the chord of arc of an angle is to the radius as jl to 57.33 then if then the radius arm; be (57. 35 inches, it follows that for an angle of one degree it will be one inch out of perpendicular o the base. The oblique line kfsight being along the radius arm, will therefore meet at 67.85, the perpendicular line of sight with one inch base, and the object at ithe apex cf the triangle wuTbo .distant D7.35 Inches from the observer, that is 67. C5 times the length of the base line. The base line Jo w divided to scale, the dittane 'of the object may thus bo read off. 1
The Chapel Hill Ledger (Chapel Hill, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
Dec. 6, 1879, edition 1
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