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VOLUME X.
LENOIR, KT. C, WEDNESDAY; AUGUST 12, 1885.
NUMBER 47.
I - J
Wallace
STATESVIULE, N. C
Whole sal E
Dealers
General Merchandise.
Largest Warehouse
and best . facili
ties for han
dling Dried Fruit, Ber
ries, etc.. in
the State.
RESPECTF
LILLY
Wallace
.-,-' - '.-
tXi.'i
J
Uiilti iv
August 27th, 1884.
-4 QUESTION ABOUT
Browns Irgn
Bttters
ANSWERED.
?f IfaaaV-How aa Brawn'. Iron Bittara wjfntf-
BaBB- .m - m a . 1 ,
which . rafmUbla phjaieUa would ptacribaIW
apt known tot ha profaaaioa. tnouiry o n
jrdin ehamioal firm will aabataotiat tMMMttina
oaobaUaoaoaadiaMlicloa f1??"":
eloaiTal, that traa is aakaowia!ml to ba tb moat
jnpotUnt factor ia aueoaaafnl aaadmal P?0?!"
BROWS IR0.1 BinERSt&
ha.rt.eha, cr pcodnaa auuatlpatfcwi alltfcgrtr
41cU4. BBOWN'8 IKON BITTKK8
pM laaUjroatUs, BUImmmm, Wwfciimi
A7adm, Malaria Chill mat
FMUacOcaeral IeMlUr,Faia -
ail thm fluntt Iw at pwaetflnd daOy.
BROwn's iron BinEr&srsstt
2fe H "-f jthflaa rAotaaa. ata
gyg-. . ! IirturetjnaPtamol
fcf" thaauaot ia aaaail- aaora rapid aodlaMrtad.
TW b-cin atoooa to brihtm; tha akin
P! haalthy eolor mom ts tha cdmIui arrBuanaa
PfPJni; fnmetioDftl dBrmntwrn-ol baaoma p--jy'?
aor.ta aMtUtar, aboadant anataB.no
9 JPPUad for thaehild. &mnbar Broam't Iroo
P25 iatha ONIY boa -aadioma tha to o
uaaotna baa Tnda Man aaa areaa.a raa I
TAKE MO OTHEjU
Y
CLniTOII A. CILLEY,
Attornoy-At-laT7, .
frtico in All The Courts.
THE PACIFIC SLOPE.
The Golden Harvest of Wheat in California
-A Most Interesting and Instructive
Letter from Capt. M. V. Moore.
Colusa, Cal., July 10.
The following interesting letter
from Capt. Moore to his son John,
he kindly permits The Topic to
print. Our readers we know will
appreciate it :
As you hare talked so much about
wanting to be a farmer and raise
wheat, &c. I have thought you
would be interested in what I have
peen today and yesterday of the
wheat harvest in California.
Today 1 have had a splendid op
portunity to see the best wheat sec
tion of the State, and have just
taken a drive of 45 miles across the
Sacramento. Valley, in the stage.
We left Chico this morning at 74
o'clock, and arrived here at 4 this
evening, making the trip of 45 miles
in 71 hours, leaving me one hour for
some official work I had to attend to
oirthe way. Although the mercury
in the thermometers at the towns
we passed showed 98, 99 and 99 iu
the shade, yet our horses - did not
sweat much.
It is one unbroken level plain (of
bottom rather) for nearly 100 miles
across this Sacramento Valley. We
crossed the Sacramento Kiver at
Butte City. (They pronounce the
word as though spelled Beaut.)
With the exception of a narrow strip
right along the river banks, the
whole country is one universal wheat
field, with here and there, occasion
ally, an orchard or a vineyard, where
irrigation can be had. The only
green crop I saw all day was one
patch oJLAlfalfa and one of corn, on
the rirw bank, j Corn does not grow
well here at all. i There is no grass
either in this Valley. Oats grow
wild and in great abundance and
luxuriance. These are cut when in
a green state, and'make what thev
call hay here. You see farmers bat
ing it up occasionally on the road ;
but there is scarcely anything else
now occupying the people of the
Valley except the wheat harvesting. -
This is on a scale grand and mag
nificent, beyond anything you can
imagine. It is no uncommon thing
to see a single field of wheat with
from six to ten thousand acres in it.
We passed net.r by the famous Glen
Kanche here, where there is one
wheat field that has sixty thousand
acres in it. I saw one field of G40
acres owned by an old darkey, who,
of course, with all his wealth, had
to have a white wife. The people
who own these big farms are the old
settlers that came , here 35 or 40
years ago and tookup the land while
it was cheap, and while others were
digging for gold in the mountains.
One of the most princely estates
on our route today is owned by a
man named Collins, who was once a
stage driver coming from New
York. It is impossible to describe
the simple splendor of his "ranche."
The people in this Valley do not put ;
on a great show of fine houses. The
great effort seems to be to make one's
self comfortable, and to keep cool
in the summer. J This is the hottest
country I was ever in. Texas is
nothing to it. Yet again if you stir
about you must be prepared for the
cold winds that Come off the great
snow beds that lie in the mountains
east of here. Hence it is that the
heat affects you so with winter cloth
ing on. The nights are cold. You
have to sleep under 2 or 3 blankets.
It is this dry weather that makes
the wheat crop here. The ground
.is broken up in the fall or winter,
and the crop is sowed any lime be
Sentember and April. They
do not use the same kind of a plow J
we have in the east. " lou ride and
drive the team from 4 to 8 horses.
The deep massive plows two shares
runs behind you and is guided by
a lever. Before plowing, the last
year's stubble has to be burned off.
It does not do well to turn it under j
there is not enough moisture in the
ground to make it rot, and the soil
is often too rich anyhow. They sow
about 75 pounds to the acre." Every
thing goes by "pounds" here. Wheat
sells at so much per cwt. even
peaches are sold by the pound. I
paid 4 cents per pound here today
for thera ; they are 5 cents in San
Francisco. Wheat is now worth
here about , or as we would say,
75 cents per bushel. I saw fields to
day that were said to be good for 50
bushels to the acre. It was actually
so thickj that ; our ordinary; black
snake could not run through it.
The wheat is sown broad, cast and
then harrowed in. Very few drills
are used, I am told. I did not see a
single one at any of the ranches we
passed today. In fact, the ground
is rather too cloddy if or good, .drill.
work. Large - harrows are
thev have fine steel teeth." '
i
When harvest comes, they do not
cut the wheat like, we do in the east.
It is not usual to cut as soen as the
crop Islri pes ' It sometimes stands
two months af terii ripening. You
have no idea how rich and yellow
the fields look-ahe yellow here w
much brighter than our wheat in the
east and such a thing as "rust" is
of rare occurrence, and then it does
Yinfc affect the crop like it does with
us. I saw only one small patch ,to-
Icannot well describe to you the
appearance of one of the real har
vesting machines at work here. It
is a heavy massive piece of frame
and gear work ; and it goes through
the field, leaving the wheat put up
in sacks along its course it cuts,
cleans and measures up
all
at one
operation.
This method, however, is
not as
universal as another. The wheat bv
this latter is cut down and raked, up
in big piles. It remains this way
till threshing time. Yon don't see
any bundles and shocks likewe have
at home. There is no tieing up in
binds. When threshing time comes
the engines go into the fields for it
is all done by si earn powerand the
wheat is hauled up in large j wagons
made for the purpose. The body,
or box, of the wagon is unlike any
thing you ever saw. It is long and
made with a high and low side. The
high side slopes outward and' catches
the straw as it is thrown up ; the
low side enables the workmen to
pitch itin.and what wheat is beaten
out in hauling ij caught in the tight
bottom of the box. There are many
of these wagons that haul to the
thresher. They have from 4 to G
horses in each. j
Threshing companies go about
over the country like they do in the
east, but here this is only done for
the small farmers, the large ranch
men have all their own turnouts and
machinery. The traveling thresh
ers take their own cooking appara
tus. You would have to laugn at
this thing, as I had to when 1 1 saw
the-first one, and had it explained.
It is a big kitchen on wheels. The
threshing men get so black and dus
ty that the rich people here - don't
let them come into their houses !
You never saw or heard of such a
country for dust. It gets as deep as
15 inches in the road for it never
rains here from April till Fall. Oc
casionally there may be a slight
shower,. but it don't amount to any
thing. The wheat lies bagged up
in the open fields till the time comes
to put it in market, unless the own
er wants to store it for a long time
off. I saw only two or three ranches
where the crop was housed. But
you see immense pils of bags all over
the fields without a sign of cover.
You see it on wagons without cover.
You see huudreds of car loads On
the railroad, piled up on open flats.
Hauling the crop to market is in
teresting also. A man with 6 mules
hitched to two wagons will haul 100
sacks or 200 bushels Two-horse
wagons haul 30 to 35 sacks accord
ing to team. This is a very common
sight one man with two wagons
fastened together. You see the dri-.
vcr on top of the load with a large
white umbrella or shield over his
heai, to keep the sun off. This sun
shield is fastened to the shoulders
with wire, so that the wind can't
blow it away, and 80 that it is not,
in the least, in the dr.ver's way.
They have splendid teams here; you
don't see a, mule under 14 j hands
high. It is said the best mules of
western Missouri and Kansas are
shipped here. This is not a grass
country, for the reason that grass
does not grow here, f In fact there
is nothing grown to any extent in
the Sacramento Valley except wheat.
It is wheat, wheat, every where.
The vineyards and orchards are a
round the towns and cities, and on
the hills in the east, where j irriga
tion can be had, as I have heretofore
written.
To give you a further idea
extent of this wheat interest
of the
here, I
will say that the whole of this
Sac-
ramento Valley is devoted
almost
exclusively to this grain. I travelled
up the , Valley yesterday over 200
miles, and across it today 451 miles,
and as far as the eye reaches, in
every direction, you see the I wheat
fields and the harvesting going on.
The Valley continues a hundred
miles yet in length, while, as I have
stated, it is from 75 to 100 miles in
breadth. j
A singular feature of the;
fields is in the immense oak
wheat
trees
thev contain. It does not
injure
the? crop for these oak trees to re
main, ana so you. see them every
where, with their graceful, rounded
tops, their deep green foliage hang
ing in symmetrical folds above the
golden harvest beneath. There is
not only the interesting and lovely
contrast in nature, but the solemn
mien of the stately trees seems sug
gestive of a mysterious , history.
There is no other forest tree here
left in the wheat fields except this
oak, all animall life seems o love
,it ; it is endeared even to man, ana
it is seldom that you see them cut.
They are of such a kind and unsel
fish nature that they allow the gol
den grain to grow just as luxuriantly
in their shadow as out on the plain1
beyond. They are a blessed retreat
also to the ! horses and cattle, for
without their generous shade in
these terribly hot days, the stock
would die of the; heat, i You see the
wild beasts and birds fleeing to their
inviting shadows. I was amused at
the crowds of crows that gather un
der them, even along the roadway,
and pant, with open beaks, jn con
sequence of the heat. , . , j
The sly Jack rabbit leaps across
the burning stretch of stubble, and
seeks refuge in the shadows of the
oak. ' : I tried hard to get ; a? shot at
some of these long-eared .fellows,
but they saved, themselves in flight.
There are thousands of these rabbits
here I have -seen them, a dozen at
a time, playing in all manner of
pranks as the train whizzed by them.
And there is no -end of squirrels.
No one seems to make war on them.
I was surprised to find that they
lived in the ground instead of in the
tree. It is, however, not the ground
squirrel of the east, but a larger
species of the grey kind.'
I guess, however, I have written
you enough for one time. There
are some other . matters connected
with the wheat interest that I had
thought of writing, but I must re
serve them to talk about on my re
turn. I write this as you see from
Colusa. This is a new town of sev
eral thousand people. It is an Indian
name. The "usa" is the same thing
that we write in the east 'oosa" or
"ousi .," as in Tallapoosa. I think
this was one of the Indian names of
the Sacramento Kiver, for we are
right on its bank here. I think it
must mean the "hot river," fdr the
water is certainly hot now. 1
I wanted to tell yon of an Effect
ing incident of our trip today, also.
We had, as passengers on the stage,
two grey and grizzled miners ; and
our driver a wild, reckless sort of
fellow 9 years in the business. A
woman, who seems to have known
him. came running out of a nice lit
tle cottage in one of the towns, and
with tears in her eyes, she threw up
her hands and cried, "Do, Ned,
stop ! Stop down at the ranch and
tell Jim the baby is dead ! oh, the
baby is dead !" and back 1 in the
house, we heard the wail of anguish
coming from another little heart,
Oh, the baby is dead !" pried the
poor, heart-broken mother, as she
turned away with folded hands. We
rolled along in solemn stillness. One
of the passengers echoed, "the baby
is dead." and tears came into the
eyes of men unused to tears; Oh !
what a sorrowful story was told in
the few words. I could not help
thinking of the time that came to
me om-e, when a thousand miles
away from home, I had the words
broken to me, "our baby is dead,"
and the dread possibility came ove
ine that when I had to break the
seal of another letter from home,
the tidings would be of some loved
one dead. f
While I mused in sorrow, I was
glad to hear sentiments, of christian
philosophy and resignation to God's
will from one of the grizzled men in
my rear and from the wild fellow
who "held the ribbons" in front.
And it is thus that God teaches us
some wise lessons in every event, if
we but interpret it right.
P. S. In looking over my letter,
I see that I have written that gras
does not grow here. You uiiist un
derstand by this that it does not
grow spontaneously. Von can cul
tivate it and anything else that
grows, in the way of grass, grain or
fruit ; but verything requires irri
gation here except wheat and wild
oats. You see beautiful grassy
lawns in the towns, but they are
kept constantly watered. All other
trees require irrigation except the
California oak, only along the river
banks and in very low places. This
California oak is a moit beautiful
and noble tree. I have seen them G
feet in diameter, though they do not
grow very tall, they "spread in
splendor." I send yon a specimen"
of the leaves.
I go back to San Francisco today
down the Coast-Range of moun
tains a long low range that reminds
me of the mountains that border
the western, or northern Valley of
the Yadkin, only the are much
higher. They keep the sea i breeze
away from this Valley, hence it gets
so hot in the day. At- night, the
wind blows from the snow-clad peaks
of the Rockies and Sieras in the
east, hence it grows so cold after
dark. I thought I should melt with
the heat yesterday, but this morn
ing, (17th) I am shivering with the
cool gust that comes across the Val
ley, though I have on heavy woolen
underclothing. This running about,
I hop, will keep i my thoughts so
diverted, that I shall not grow
homesick, and die of the blues and
despair. M. V. M.
Tha Result of a Flirtation at Sea.
London, Aug. : 2. The latest so
ciety sensation in London is "caused
by the announcement , that Lord
Chief Justice Coleridge is about to
marry an American lady whom he
first met on the steamer on which
he returned from the United. States;
three years ago, and who threatened
to bring an action for breach of pro
mise if he did not marry her. So
ciety is very much agitated over the i
approaching event. His lordship's
sons and daughter are said to be very
angry V.;;,. ; ij Y-.vy
"What are your politics Uncle ?"
asked an Austin candidate of an old
negro on crutches. ; . ; t
"I dunno, Boss." . , , , ,
"Are you, radical ?" '
j "No,.sah:", ; ";" ' ' '!"';!
' "Are you Democratic ?"
"I reckin so.' : I'se ' rheumatic.
Democratic and rheumatic am pret
ty much de same, I reckin. , Dey
sounds mighty alike. " ,
A candidate t says he is, in the
hands of his friends, but he finds
before he is done, that the hands of
his friends are in him and pretty
deep, top. : ; . . ; ,, ; , , . ;
t' ' " .am. .a. . - -
I With an eye to business the ama
teur astronomer sweeps the sky for
comets.
THE OLD, OLD STORY.
Had Heard it Before.
Bill Nye in San Francisco Ingleside.
I think that one reason there are
so few good story-tellers among us
is that the listeners are, in manv
instances, so wilfully and so stub
bornly unappreciative that it tends
toward discouraging the skillful nar
ration of first-class anecdotes.
There were four of us together
coming across "the divide" a few
years ago, and this principle was
then and there elucidated. Gibbon,
Gregg and myself were congenial
acquaintances, and we would have
enjoyed the long ride if it had not
been for a man named Sawsage, who
had only recently escaped from some
low-priced educational institution.
He had acquired a few cast iron facts
of cyclopedia variety, and with the
odor of the valedictory all through
his clothes he was making a tour of
the coast and Colorado. He was
what you may call one of those re
ally statistical, brainy young reser
voirs of information who burst forth
from the Alma Mater with the in
tention of going to Congress in two
years, and finally compromise the
matter four years later oy running
for overseer of highways and getting
snowed under by about 137 majority,
j When Gibbon saw Mr. Sawsage get
on the stage he said to me in a low
voice, "Nye, we are undone. Saw
sage will doubtless .endeavor to relate
some anecdote to us on the way, and
then I shall commit an atrocious
crime."
But he didn't do so the first ten
miles; he contented himself by shed
ding other information, and ex
plaining things that he had just
found in his physical geography,
and stunning us with the hard words
that always float around in the aqua
rium whreh young men refer to as
their brains.
Finally, however, some one re
minded him of a story. Gregg tried
to turn the conversation, but it was
of no use. Said he : It seems that
many years ago a traveler or tourist
of some description, whose name is
immaterial" '
"Funny name," said Gregg,
Don't you think so, Gibbon ?"
"Yes." Foreigner, probably. I
knew a man named Jimmy Terrial
Once though." .
I We discussed the name for four
or five miles, and then allowed Saw
sage to proceed.
I Well, as I was going to say, this
tourist, traveler, or sojourner was
propounding inquires as to the cli
matic changes and isothermal "
"Now, pardon," said Gibbon, "but
are you sure that word is not pro
nounced isothernal ?"
I ventured to remark that is-other-mal
was the correct accent, while
Gregg sided with Sawsage. From
a quiet discussion this grew into a
regular row, which lasted at least
ten, miles. Then we allowed the
narrative to proceed.
1 "Well, at last, to make a long
story short, the traveler and a native
of this country -"
ij "Remember his name?" asked
Gregg. "We've got the other man's ,
name. We ought to have this one."
"No," saysSawsago. "I did'n't
give the tourist's name, you remem
ber." '
I "I beg pardon," said Gregg. "I
don't want to seem querulous and
all the time kicking up a row with a
cemparati ve stranger, but you cer
tainly gave us the other gentleman's
name.
We then had a long and highly
enjoyable quarrel during which Gib
bon and I challenged ; Gregg and
Sawsage to fight us in a dark room,
each man to be blind-folded and
armed with an adze. Best man to
pay all funeral expenses and scrub
out the room next day.
To this Gregg agreed, but Sawsage
said he. wasn't a very expert ad zeman
and wanted to apologize.
j Gibbon and I hesitated. ' Finally
we agreed to think it over, but in
"the meantime we begged Sawsage to
go ahead with his story, as we would
reach the home station in five miu
tes more. '
P At last he made out to tell .the
story that Adam found under the
currant bushes when he went into the
Garden of Eden, about the place
where the year was divided into
nine months winter and three
months late into the fall." '
j At the station Sawsage went on
east by the train, and we took No. -3
for Salt Lake City. On the way
Gregg, Gibbon and I sent a telegram
to Mr. Sawsage separately, which
read as follows towit :
"J." Ptolemy Sawsage, care Con
ductor No. 4 : Have heard that B.
C. story of yours before. 9 Collect.".
j And we had, top.
?!
"Maryland, Uy Kiryland."
From Mrs Burton Harrison's Re
collections of a Virginia Girl in the
i First Year of the War, we quote the
following as to the origin of some
of the Confederate war songs : "It
was at this time, after a supper at
the headquarters of the . 'Maryland
line' at Fairfax, that the afterwards
universal war-song, My Maryland,
was set afloat upon the tide of army
favor. We were sitting - outside a
i tent in the warm starlight of an ear-
ly autumn night, when music . was
proposed. At once we struck up
Randall's verses to the tune of the
old college song, 'Lauriger Horatius,'
a young lady of the party from
Maryland, a cousin of ours, having
recently set them to this music be
fore leaving home to share the for
tunes of the Confederacy. All join
ed in the ringing chorus, and when
we finished a burst of applause came
from soldiers listening in' the dark
ness behind a belt of trees. Next
day the melody f was hummed t far
and near through the campsJand in
due time it bad gained and held the-;
i -- m i . J ii : -
piace oi lavonpe song .in me army.
No doubt the hand-organs would
have gotten hold of it ; but, from
first to last during the continuance
of the Confederacy, those cheerful
instruments of torture were missing.
(I hesitate to mention this fact, lest
it prove an incentive to other nations
to go to war.) Other songs sung
that evening, which afterwards had
a great vogue, were one beginning
'By blue Patapsco's billowy dash,'
arranged by us' to an air from Pu
ritani,' and shouted lustily, and
'The years glide slowly by, Lorena
a ditty having a queer little quiver
ing triplet in the heroine's name
that 8erveda8 a pitfall to the unwary
:singer. 'Stonewall Jackson's Way'
came on the scene afterwardsL later
in the war. i
She Changed her. Crip.
Chicago Inter-Ocean.
The feat of covering an octave on
the keys of a piano is too much for
the small hands of some girls, and
a surgical operation for adding to
t he spreading capacity of the fingers
has come iuto considerable vogue.
It consists in dividing certain fibrous
bands in the little finger. Most of
the pupils of a certain professor of
music have submitted to it. There
is not much pain involved and no
disfigurement. The improved fin
ger is left none of the dependence
upon its nearest neighbor which is
its natural characteristics. One of,
the maidens was telling me about it.
She declared it to be a perfect suc
cess. ' " " '
"But a funny thing happened,"
she added. "You know Ben ? HeV
my best wooer. . We'd clasped hands
by the hour, don't you see, and his
familiarity with my gentle grip was
very accurate. A party of us girls
went to Philadelphia to have our
little fingers slit Tby-Dr. Forbes, who
invented the operation, I believe.
From there I made a trip west," and
on returning to new York my fingers
were all healed. Ben came to see
me, of course, and that evening we
sat in a sort of artificial gloaming
in our parlor gas turned low see?
Oh, 'twasn't any impropriety,! for a
chum of mine was on the sofa with
us. Ben reached for my hand and
?ot it, but he thougdt it was my
riend's bscause the improved finger
radically altered the flexibility, the
sentimentality the individuality, of
the clasp, so to speak. He turned
so red that I flt a glow from his
face in the dark, and dropping my
hand he begged t'other girl's pardon.
The ABgnst Century.
The Midsummer Holiday Number
of the Century opens with a lively,
anecdotal account, by Henry Eck
ford, of life at "Camp Grindstone,"
thesummer meetingpiace, forgames
and races, of the American Canoe
Association, in the Thousand Is
lands.! It is profusely illustrated by
W. A.! Rogers, ' who is a follower of
thesport which he spiritedly depicts.
W. D. Howells, in his picturesque
series on Italian cities, writes of his
walks 1 through Siena, illustrated
from Pennell's etchings and pen-and-ink
sketches, some of them of
full-page size. I J
A portrait of Willian Lloyd Gar
rison, engraved by T. Johnson from
a life-size photograph in the posses
sion of the Garrison family, is the
frontispience of the number ;j there
is also ah interesting group portrait
of Garrison, Wendell Phellips and
George Thompson. His birthplace
and other places of interest are
shown ins the picture which accom
pany the text. His son Wendell
Phillips Garrison j describes the ori
gin of the greut antislavery advocate,
and his son Francis Jackson Garri
son recounts .his boyhood, i These
papers are introduced by Thomas
Went worth Higginson, who charac
terizes the agitation which proceed
ed the Civil War, and gives his
views
ities.
of Garrison's personal
qual-
j Kenyon Cox furnishes a number
of charming decorations and initials
to '.Ernest Whitney s poem,
The
Glorv of the Year.' The papers on
"Typical Dogs' this month include
' "The Water-Spaniel," "The Collie
"The Fox Terrier," and J"The
Scotch Deer-hound," each class be-,
ing illustrated with the picture of a
prize-winner, and described by the
owner of the prize-dog. . ' j '
The fiction of the number embraces-
"A Story with a Hero," by Jas.
T. McKay, the concluding part of
"Silas Lapham," by W. D. Hpwells,
and the' seventh part of "The Bos
toniahs," by Henry James.
': A paper "Oh Hotel-keeping
Present and Future" is contributed
'by .George Hes. U Of a timely nature
also is Henry King's suggestive pa
per (with map), on "The Indian
Territory what it is, , and what it
should be." v-j, j .. -;
i The August contribution y to the 1
Century War Series, besideai Mrs.
Burton Harrison's recollections of
"A Virginia Girl in the First Year
of the War."? , which has a storv in-
1 terest also in its picture of Southern
ways, ana its amusing anecaotes oi
civilian life in camp, contains papers
by General Fitz John Porter on
Malvern Hill "The Last of the
; Seven Dap' Battles," and another
chapter, from the "Recollections of a
Private ;" j both being illustrated.
In "Topics of the Time" are edi
torials ort "The Merit System,"
"The Revised Version," and "The
Christian pongress." ! In Open Let
ters, "What shall be Done with Our
Ex-Presidents?" "Recent Fiction,"
etc., are discussed in a suggestive
and critical way. In Bric-a-brao
are some liu morons verses, by J. A.
Macon, Charles Henry Webby John
Vance Cheney, and others, and some
pen sketches among the Brentons,
by O. li. Smith. . ;
The First Confederate Battle-Flip.
From Mrs. Burton Harrison's Re
collections of a Virginia Girl in the
First Year of the War, we quote the
following t "Another incident, of
note, of personal experience during
the autumn of '6i, was that to two
of my cousins and me was intrusted
the making of the hrst three battle
flags of the Confederacy, directly af
ter Congress had decided upon i
design for them. They were jaunty '
squares of scarlet crossed with dart
blue the cross bearing stars to indi-j
cate the number of;the seceding
States. We set 1 our best stitches
upon theni, edged them with golden
fringes, and when they were finish
ed dispatched one to Johnston, i an
other to Beauregard, and the third
to Earl Van Dorn, the latter after-!
wards a dashing cavalry leader, but
then commanding infantry at Man
assas. The banners were received
with; all the enthusiasm we could
-have hoped for ; were toasted, feted,
.cheered abundantly. After two
years, when Van Dorn had been
killed in Tennessee, mine came back
to Die, tattered and smoke-stained
from long and honorable work in
ithe field, i But it was only a little
Hwhile after i it had been; hestowed
that there arrived one day at our
lodging8 ini Culpepper a huge, bash
ful Mississippi scout, one of the
most daring m the army,-i-with the
frame of a Hercules and the face of
a child. He was - bidden to come
there by his general, he said, to ask
if I woud not give him ah order to
fetch so me cherished object from
my dear old home something that
would proye to me 'how much they
thought of the maker of that flag ri
After some hesitation I acquiesced,!
although thinking it a jest A week!
later I was the astonished recipient
of a lamented bit of finery left 'with
in the lines,' a wrap of "white and
azure, brought to us by DillPn him
self, with a beaming face. He had
gone through the: Union pickets
mounted on a load of fire-wood, and
while peddling poultry had present-;
ed himself iit our town house, whence
he carried ibff -his prize in triumph
with a letter it its folds telling us!
how relatives, left behind longed to
be sharing the joys and sorrows of
those at large in the Confederacy."
From the Virginia Line, r
Grassy Creek, July 27. :
To the Editor of TJte Lenoir Topic:
Thinking that a few items .from
this part of the country, would j be
interesting to some of the readers of
your valuable paper, I ask ! a space, j,
I always welcome The Topic, and
only wish that it was as frequent a
visitor as drummers and tax collec
tors, &c. . ' 1
We have a charming scenery in
our little valley, situated on cither:
side of the Va. aud N. C. line, and
the people tire noted for their hospi
tality and cordial welcome.
The improvement in Durham cat
tle is uptending with stock men and
farmers of our country. The Vir-i
ginia buyers say that some of the
finest cows and other stock cattle
seen south of the Iron Mountain is
owned by a farmer of Grassy Creek.
Notwithstanding the complaint of!
hard times, the spirit of improve-l
ment has moved several, and build-
ing is still, the theme. The. steam!
saw mill and planing machine of our
neighborhood, is no longer an object
of curiosity, but a monotony, and
the uncouth sound of the planer
and matcher is very grinding on the
feelings of the more musical, v j
; P. J. Greer has built a large and
commodious new flouring mill near
where the old one stood) and is ' dol
ing a lively business. V i j
C. A. Greer, Thomas D. Jones
and Mrs. Mary S, Parsons have all
had their dwellings painted this
"summer, and the latter having re
modeled her stately brick building,
and made some additions, adds very;
much to the appearance. ,
W. C. Greer, Esq., expects to be
able to, occupy his new dwelling by
Christmas, the brick how being
burned and the lumber all on the
.yard. ,; : ' : ?;"
, f Several of the neighbor a have
built ponds and stocked them with
fish, known as the German, Carp.
Also an interest in the cultivation of
the Italian bee is prominent. Great
advantages are -claimed '"for them
over the common black.' - ''.'.
1 Corn crops are looking fine and
we have an abundance of grass. The
wheat crop wa3 almost a failure ex
cept where it had been drilled. .
W.O.
!0
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