North Carolina Newspapers

11 A KIMS. Editor $1.50 PER ANNUM,' IN 4 ADVANCE. FOR THE PUBLIC GOOD, VOL IV. CHAPEL HILL, N. C, SATURDAY. FEBRUARY 21, 1880. NO. 19. 5 . ' ! . ; : ; . V;.'" 0 a! . Entire NEW FALL GOODS AT THE LOWEST! PRICES i A Choice Assortment of I Styles and Fabrics at Very Low Prices. : -t - ! i . " G eat Success. Prices Further Reduced to Suit the Times. Everything I Sold at a Bargain, and no misrepresentation. I rcspwtfully Invito a look from all rlio ltay Firat-Class Goods DRESS GOODS A Black Silk find Fnncy Silks from LAWNS, GRENADINES, ORGANDIES, KID CLOVES! I am Headquarters for Kid Gloves. W 1 1 T E G O O T S. .Pique, JrUh Linen, lileacned. yoraesuc ouccwip, WJ CORSETS. HOSIERY and KID GLOVES- i I offer many new Attractions NECK WEAR AND NOTIONS. New iKfVsjrniMn 1 adies Ties, j White and Colored Zephyr Ties, &c. , .! Ribbons, Fans, Dress Buttons, PAUA Of.S'ind UMBRELIAVS in QENTS' SHIRTS AND 0ASSIBIERE8. Liumlried and LTnlauodried Shirts and told Very Carpet?, Matting and Floor Oil Cloth My Line of thee Goods is Equal to an id I Guarantee my A Magnificent Line of Tapestry. DRUSELSAll New Designsfor 75 Cents per yard. . s i rk.br some of the best V, v rr,l Hc,iful DeMgn, in Rug,, Door! Mat. of the BeFabncs, and the Dest Extra Quality. ; MaUed Free with' pleasure and any parties desinnft to parcliase. Vrompt Attention Glfcn to Order Samples J. N. GAIVIIVION, Emibriam,: of : Ifasliioo, MAIN. SAVE YOUR MONEY- i J ) BARBEK'S DRUG STORE IS HEADQUARTERS For Jure Drugs, Genuine Medicines, &c EVE3RYTHING "TIP-TOP" ? Stock SPECIALTY. FIFTYr CENTS upuards. DRESS LINENS, PERCALS, be. KID CLOVES I In this line this season. btlKS, -fringes. &c.f Ac, &c. 1TM Newest Designs and Celebrated make. Fine Low. Cassimerea. Bought to be any and Second to-noue .u , Tnrnrp O T tivv - - 1 . . T Clnto rriip " I grades impor ted. I STREET, IVorti jon-roHJin.." it- TJSUAllt ICEPT.INVA HOUSE. CAY. You smooth the tangles f:om m hair With gentie touch and tendereet care. ' . A.nd count the years ere you ehall mar . Iiright silver thieads among the dark Smiling thj while to hear me say, ''You'll think of this again some day Some day!" I do not-eoorn the power. of, time. Nor count the years of fadeless prime; But no white gleams will ever ehine ' Among these heavy locks of mine; Aye, laugh as gayly as you may, YouM think of this again some d iy--S torn daj! - Rome day I shall not feel as now, Your soft hand move along my brow; ; I shall not slight your light commands," And draw your tresses through my bands;' I shall be silent and obey 1 . And you you will not laugh someMay j 1 Soma day! I know how long your loving hands W.ll linger in thece glossy bands ' When you shall weave my latest crown Of their thick masses, long and brown;. But you will see no touch of gray Adorn their shining length that day Borne day! ' And while your tears are falling hot Upon the lips which answer not, You'll take from these one treasured tress Tlnd leave the rest to eilentness Remem! er that I ne ' to say, 'You'll think of this again some day Some day!" Edith's Lover. Coming out upon the terrace where they stood alone together in the June twilight, I remember thinking what a handsome, noble looking couple they madej and how well it was that my mistress had chosen Mr. Hollis for her future husband when so many at tractive young gentlemen aspired to the honor of her hand. As I approached, Mr. Hollis was saying : "To-morrow is our wedding day, dear Edith! To-morrow! 1 can! scarcely realize it. Ah, how proud and glad I am." My lady looked up at this moment, her cheeks all aglow, her eyes shining with hap Vinrw Hearinsr mv step she said in her gentle way. "What is it. Jennie?" 4A strange woman has presented herseii at the kitchen door, madam. She asked for you and will not be denied. She does not liva in thoM jrto, T think ; hw awooxit an4, dress are both peculiar, j Good gracious, there she comes now, and I left ht r on the kitchen step!'' My mistress looked in the direction indi cated and beheld a drooping, forlorn figure slowly advancing from the rear of the house. She changed color and drew back with a startled cry: , j "Mrs. Hawkins I " The woman came nearer f and paused on the upper slep, looking curiously about her. "Forgive me for coinm'," she said, in a low, broken voice. "It ain't right to be troublin' one like you. But what could I do with hiui beggin' and pleadin' and fret tin' himself ill? 1 hadn't the heart to refuse his prayer, and ' "Hush !" My mistress drew her strange visitor hurriedly down the steps. 8he was very pale and trembled with ex citement. ' .' I "No'more now I cannot listen, saia she, in a whisper. "If you have any errand with me come again by-and-by when I am alone." f i The woman sighed heavily,; i "Let me give you this note, ma am it's from him, an' I'll trouble; you no. more. You'll read it, an' do all it asks, ma am she addedquite plaintivelv, as she thrust a bit Of cruniDled paper into my lady s hand. "Yes, ves. Now go-go at once ! "I will." But don't disappoint him, ma am; don't doit." - . . J. There was desperation in her voice and il-c rprhnns even menace as she turned j and made her way with difficulty down the : path. , ! . . . I Mr. Ilollis naturally made some lnjmry as , to the strange visitor, but, at Miss Ediths ! solicitation, he dropped the subject, and soon afterward went away, t . , , i About 10 o'clock that night my lady s bell summoned me to her chamber. j I found her sitting witn ner wiai o hit- rf naner the same tlie woman had given ner-cicnu Her lace wore a ""C4 v-r ' - ,1,1 n amnnaeiriTi 1 1 ih.ii 1 had ever seen upuu . "Jenny," she said, turning in her chair a3 I entered, 4'do you know a place m the village called Holme's. Cottage i "Yes, ma'am." " I . ' tn 44Good. Get your bonnet, I wash you to i take me there. ; 1 wish w aeout : 'But it is a long distance, maua , . j must co. shall I not order the carnage ( j -I do not wish this visit loiown to any one else in the e, JennyThevan s would think strange ot Yo 1 am 8ure' are discreet and faithful. I . 2 We left the house by a side door, locking it and taking the key with us. Presently we reached Holme's Cottage. It waTa long, low,building in the outskirts of the vuafe, at some distance f ronv any o her dwelling. Since my knowledge of the house began, it had been occupied by the poorer class of tenapts. . I - -Some one I wish to seei -s here, she said, quietly. "liemain ouisiuc, ouj, ah all not be long away. , , , 8hill Centered without knockingand closed the door. The next instant I heard a glad crv within then a burst of sobs. Suddenly Mr. Hollis confronted me his face white and convulsed in the moonlight. -Tril m6," he said in a husky whisper "was ft Sh, my promised wife, that went He dropped mj hand and was . turning away, when a few agitated words came through the open window: "Edith, I knew you would cornel my pre- cious darling, my wifef You were not so cruel as to iorsake me utterly. tTAIAA I ed to hear a simple word only of those it uttered. ' ' "Wife 1" he echoed in a hollow tone. "Wife! And to-morrow was t have been our wedding day 1" In spite of my tgrror and bewilderment, I had the presence of mind to grasp his arm and drag him further away from the house. "What brings, you here?" I sternly de manded. "Why have you followed us?" . "I did not follow you ; I am no ' spy ; it was chancrrihat brought mo in this-direction to-night. Nay, not chance," he added, with sudden vehemence, "but the provi- Tlien, before I could say a word in reply, he had freed himself from my grasp and was striding down the shadow-hunted street. . Ten minutes later my mistress came but. She drew a deep breath as she clasped my arm. and I felt her tremble. ! t "Come, Jenny, let us get away from here quickly, I shall be gla to . reach home again so glad-" ; She looked so miserable and dispirited that I had not the courage to tell her what had occurred outside the cottage while she lingered within. , The next morning, while she was at break fast, and the mystical stir of the bridal preparations was going on in the bouse, one of the servants brought in a large package. She cut theords, and out fell a heap of letters the pure, dainty letters she had written from time to time to her lover aad the few b-joks and ke psakes she had given him. . ' I saw her stagger, turn pale and catch her breath. Then she looked at me with a bewildered air. 4 'II don!t understand. Do yon J en- ny ?' it ... . i The package and a brief note it contain ed were Deane Hollis' farewell. My lady did not cry or faint. Flinging the note away, she elapsed both hands to her forehead. . ! "My God! This is inconiprehensible. What what does he mean ?" "I can tell you, Madam." And I did. ' Wben she knew that Mr. HolIi4 had been: at Holme's Cottage the night before, and what he had overheard there, instead of sinking to the floor in shame and confusion, as I half expected, she sprang towards the door with a smothered sob of joy. r "Oh, heaven!" she said. "Come, Jenny, we-have another mission to perform." ; "Where are you going?" I said, looking at her; wonderingly. - ttCoihnnttc3. flt-avcn grant that we be not too late.' Scarcely waiting for her bonnet ; and shawl, she hurried me from the house. Presently we reached a handsome man- sion Mr. noilis country seal, a carnage stood before the door and some one was just stepping into it My lady screamed out at the sight aiid rushed forward excitedly : "Oh, Deane, don't go! don't leave me at least until I have been given a chance to explain ! You have misjudged me; it is all a terrible mistake. Come with me to Holme's Cottage, do come. God knows I do not wish to keep any secrets from you; not one." - We all entered the carriage together and drove to Holme's Cottage. We weae met on the threshold by the same forlorn looking woman who-had brought the note. She burst out sobbing in our faces. "My son is dead," she cried. "He breathed his last soon after you went away last night. Oh, ma'am, won't you come in an' look at him. I'm sure it would please him could he but know." ' We entered the poor little room and stood beside the cuch on which the dead man lay. . . The secret of Miss Edith's visit of the pre vious night was soon told : this rash, impet uous man had allowed himself to fall des perately in love with Miss Edith, the pre vious summer, in spite of the difierence and utter impossibility of his ever hoping to win a return of her affections. When he realized that he must die, a prey to consumption, he begged to be taken to the vicinity of my lady's home, that he might be near her at the last. He had had more or less delirium for some days previous to his death, and while this was on him bad really fancied that Miss Edith was his wrfe, and spoke of her, in his rambling way, as such' " 4 'I could not despise his love, Deane, I u . v. gaid her beautifui: i f" " - . eycs full of tearg "Do not blame me the, truth: it was for for seeking to hide the. truth; it was lor nis sake. It seemed cruel to expose his weak ness. ; Will you forgive me ?" He echoed the word and caught her to his heart- 4 'Forgive you! Oh, my darling, it is I who need to be forgiven!" I oo Soon ! Too Soon I When a newly-married widower passed a crowd who were standing on the corner lask week, one of the party remarked : "He waited a long time bef ore he hitched onto a second wife, didn't he ?" "How long ago did his first wife die? queried a subdued-looking stranger, who wns Rtandinsr near. Thp mrtv fisnired that it had been about " x J c four years. 44Too soon, to soon," mused the stranger, "if my wife should die I'd never get marri ed again." . . 4, The moist ire that gathered m the stran ger's eyes eugnlf ed the crowd in a sea of sympathy, and,' when he bowed his head, and they saw the marks of a rolling-pin behind his ear,.' and observed that several tufts of hair were missing from his scalp, they knew he meant what he said. Who will feel the tenderest partici pation in joy' let him not look at happy children, but at the parent who rejoice "That Injun e. An nil nklntinD- was recentlv exhibited in a store window in Virginia City, Nevada. It represented the Mountain Meadow Mas sacre. The teams and wagons of the emi grants are seen winding d wn into the val ley in which the horrible tragedy is soon to be enacted, while behind rocks and trees in the foreground are visible the crouching In dians and: Mormonsj all in feathers and war paint. -.- I " A crowd of men were standing about the picture, comment ing upon it and talking; of the horrioie Duxcneiy - it repn.Bein.cu, among the rest a reporter. ; ; Observing a stalwart. Piute brave insr on the street at a distance of 4- stand a few paces, the reporter said to the whiles pre sent : "Hotd on, and we'll have some fun. I'll get yon Indian and confront him with the scene." . " The Piute, a huge, sleeping-looking fel low, tattooed on the point of the chin and cheek bones, was soon brought in front of the picture. ! ' . j The reporter, pointed out the horses and wagons, the menj wjomen and children, all unsuspiciously filingj down into the jvalley, and the armed' and! painted Indians, with "blood in their eyes, " peering out froin their hiding-plapes. ' " Yoi see the white men, the horses and the wagons ?' said the reporter. "Yash, me see urn," said the Indian. - "Vnn RPR the Iniuns behind the rocks and behind the trees:?" "Yash. me see um." ANow, pretty soon Injun shoot all the white, men, shoot all the white women, cut throat of all little children you sabe "Yash, me sabelv ' ''You. sabe?" I ''Yash, heap sabe," said the Indian estlv. i his eves glistening. earn- The reporter was somewhat disappointed, a3 he had expected the Indian's feelings would be somcwha worked upon by the picture of wholesale slaughter he had drawn, particularly when it came to cutting the throats of the children. However, the untu tored child of the desert gazed innocently in his face with a look which seemed to feay : "Well, proceed withi the lesson." The red man seemed utterly free ( from guile, and willing toj test Mm further the reporter said : . j 1 ,; "When all men dead, all women (dead, and all Children dead, Injun take all horses, nil hlankfits. all monev all everything in, wagon you sabe ?" I "Yash. me sabe."' Turning to the reporter, the guileless and untutored fellow pointed out a particularly fierce-looking Indiari peering out from be hind a rock. ; I "You see um him?" "Ypia .'' said the reborter. "I see him "You see um gun j?" "I see the gun." . i . "You see um feather on him head f "I see his feathers." 'Good boy : -you heap sabe. That Injun " J . - 'm. by; rock, that Injun with gun, that with feather on him! head, that one Iniun heap shooit that - Injun Injun mean me!" drawinsr himself ud to his full height and J slapping himself across his resonant . . cj . chest with his broad right hand. Steam Tramcars. A steam engine and car for tramways has been tried at Liverpool, The works Of the engine are placed on tlie tubular frames at and these are utiliz ed to receive the exhaust stam and then convey it back into the condenser. The puffing experienced in ordinary locomotives is this obviated, and; all noise m the Work ing of the engine conn pletely subdued.) On ly a small amount of vapor is visible from the funnel, which rises about four feet over the top of the carriage. The engine carriage is about the length of one horse, and its tractive weight about five. t&ns. Engine and passenger carriage are together (about thirty-four feet long, this being considerably less than the length of the horse and carri ages as now used. A speed ot ten miles an hour can easily be attained, but the Board of Trade limit the pac&&.jejght miles an hour. The engine in question, can. with facility, ascend a gradient oi one in lourteen; it was tried bri a rise; of one in forty. The working is of the simplest character. But and, one man is required to tend the engine, and with a single harnile, he can start and stop the tram train- f The handle is connect ed with the expansion valves, ana oniy tne necessary power of steam is used in; stop ping the engine, which can be done jvithin a length of twenty feet. The water for condensing is renewed at the end of, each journey, it it is a long one, or wnen iwu or thre3 light, journeys have been performed. Enough coke is put into the furnace! at the start to last for the return journey, so that,: practically, no fuel has to be carried on the enginye. This conduces to the absolute cleanliness f the carriage. The cost fuel is calculated at about two shillings per engine per day of twelve hours, anjd this and the wages of thedrivei are about the whole of the expenses connected with ift. An important feature of the new engine is that the existing rolling stock can, with vptv slijrht' alterations, be adapted thereto. The experiment was; On the whole, regard ed as highly satisfactory. Ancient Foris In Michigan. An interesting account is published of the present condition of ithe ancient forts on the Rifle river twelve miles east of West Branch, Ogemaw county, There are two of these forts,- and an examination of the: upper one which is situated on a high bank near the river and about 25 feet- above the river, showed the inclosure to be in formeil round or rather oblong, thei" longest distance being nortb and south. The works consist of a ditch and embankment, which was found to be about-550 feet in circumference and abaut five feet fromhe bottom of the trench to the top of the embankment,' whichap nfiara to have been greatly reduced in height hffPTnnmrfi to the! elements. Inside the. embankment the surface .is very level, save where trees grew, and there have been some large ones. There are, f out entries to this enclosure, one facing each of ithe cardinal noints of the compass. These entrances or gateways are about wide enough to admit the passage of a wagon. Instead of the trench being completed around the entrance, and bridging the same, it terminates on each side of the passage way, where a nar- -row strip of eround appears to have been disturbed. These openings were 'undoubt edly protected by gates. , On the embank ment was a rampart of logs with a palisade. There can scarce be ,any doubt of this, for the remains of charred wood are found in different parts of the embankment. On the .right hand side of each passageway leading out, the embankment is higher than in oth er4 places. About eight years ago the pine timber here was cut off, - By counting the rings of yearly growth on a pine stump which stood '-. on the embankment, i it was found to contain 264, which, together with the eight years since it was cut, makes this work at least 272 years old long before the days of the Jesuit missionaries, or the first whites that history records, which'was In the year 163 1239 years ago. Thus It will be seen that the date of this work Is anterior to the first permanent English set tlement upon the American continent, and about the days of Queen Elizabeth of Eng land. The timber, that now stands within the surrounding has grown since the erec tion of this fortification ;t&r the trees found within this enclosure and those surrounding appear to e without the same general site . and age. Within about 60 rods, overlook ing this work, are hills that rise, perhaps, 100 feet above the surroundings, showing that the builder of the defense did not ex pect artillery to be used agairM it. The other fort, which Is the larger of the two, fs situated three miles turther down the river, and is much more imposing and impressive in appearance. Like the other, this is sit- uated near the river, on a slight eminence, and contains the same general characterii- tics four entrances at right angles, north south, east and west. Here the embankv nient is in some places ten feet high. The circumference of this work is over 600 feet. As in the other case, large trees grew on the embankment, and within the inclosure there was one about four feet in diameter. In the center of the western gateway stands a large hemlock tree, and the surroundings are covered with a thick, heavy growth of live timber. One tree which had been cut , down near the edge of the enclosure was over four feet in diameter, arid by counting - the. successive rings or circles of wood was found to be about 390 years old. t . " ' . . . Russian Justice. A verdict highly characteristic of Itos sian justice was recently given in the Dis trict Court of Cherson, in Southern Russia. Three young collegians of respectable par entage stood arranged before that tribunal upon the charge of having at different times stolen from the master of the British merchantman Beta, lying at anchor in Nicholoieff Harbor, a golden watch and chain, a purse containing a sovereign, and a pair ot golden sleeve links. , The pris oners made full confession of their delinj quency, but appealed , with heart rending sobs to the patriotism of the Court for ex oneration from the legal consequences of their crime upon the grounds that 4 'they had proposed exercising a well merited vengence upon the wicked English, who had inflicted so many wrongs upon Holy Russia!" Thus invoked, the Juiy returned a unaninions verdict of "not guilty,'? which enabled the judges to mulct the British plaintiff in U the costs of the action, id eluding the' expenses incurred by the State during the detention of the three young thieves in prison down to the day of their trial. H . ' " . Nerve. ' About a year ago a prisoner was brought from one Of the Territories in irons, and handed over to the Detroit House of Correc tion, with the warning that he was a desper ate character and had boasted that he would "run'' the institution. He had a malignant look and a surly answer for all questions, and when ordered down into the bath room he boldly declined to go. . i ' 'Step down ! repeated the deputy. : "I won't!" replied the prisoner, backing off a little and glancing around for a weap on. ! ' i. . . I The deputy was the man for the occasion. Walking close up to the prisoner, Le said, in a quite but far-reaching voice: "Every prisoner under this roof must obey rae or die! If vou are not down stairs in thirtjr seconds fwill shoot you through the headlf No weapons were in sight. The men faced each other barehanded. The prisoner was a robber and a murderer. The deputy wts an officer of nerve. For ten seconds they looked into each other's eyes and read each other's thoughts. Then the prisoner turned and went down stairs, and from that day to this he has been as submissive and obedient a any man in the pnsom Half a Million of Gifts. Robert Mitchell, one of the oldest and wealthiest of Cincinnati merchants, sur prised ,his family on Christmas Day by the distribution of presents which amounted almost to an ante-mortem disposition of his estate. The family which in the three generations numbers twenty-six persons, had assembled for a Christmas reunion, nnrl whilft at dinner, before dessert was served, a servant passed around a silver salver containing envelopes addressed one to each member of the family. Mr. Mitchell then made a statement explaining tte gifts, which he had intended as a surprise to them,- and which had consequently been ' entirely unlookcd for on their part. The grandchildren received' gifts of money;; his daughters and daughters-in-law received deeds of valuable residences and real estate ; his sons. Albert and Richard, were given $50,000 each, in accounts standing against them on the books of the firm of Mitchell & Rammelsburg ; Mrs. Redway and Mrs. Burton each received receipts for $50,000, capital advanced to their respective hus bands in business. The, aggregate of these gifts is stated to be about $500,000. It was intended to keep the affair quiet, but it leaked out, Mr. Mitchell being questioned about the matter, confirmed the reporta. 1 V " 7 s to seei them happy, . - ,: , ..,'-.:..