North Carolina Newspapers

An Indcpcuacnt i?amuy newspaper : ;j? or tltc Promotion of tlio Political, Social, Affricultiirnl and Commercial IntcrcHtH dC tlio South. " - " - - - - , . . . . if- . VOLM LINCOLNTON, N. G, SATURDAY, OCT. 12, 1878. NO. 281. i PUBLISHED BY DeLA-IVE BROTinSKS, TEfiMS-IX, ADVANCE: ne copy, one year, 2.00 One copy, six months.. .. 1.00 One copy, three months, ......... ........ 7a Si r"G copy, . . .... 5 Ten copies one year,.. ...... 15.00 gLt To persons who make .up clubs of ton or more names, an extra copy of tha paper will be furnished one year, free of charge. ADVERTISEMENTS Will be inserted at One Dollar per square (one inch,) for the first, and Fifty cents nersquare for each subsequent insertion less than three months. No advertiee ment considered less than a square. Quarterly, Semi-Annual- or Yearly con tracts will be made on liberal terms the contract, however, must in all cases he confined to the immediate business of tJe firm or individual contracting. Obituary Notices and Tributes of Res pect, -rated as advertisements. Announce ments of Marriages and Deaths, atid notices- of a religious character, inserted gratis, and solicited. IX A LOVELY HOUR. If I could bold your bands to-night, Just for a little while, and know That only I, of all the world, - .Possessed them so ; A slender shape in that old chair, Between me and the twilight pale, If I could see you here to-night So liht and frail ; Your cool white dress its fol diner lost In one broad sweep of shaddow gray ; Your weary head just dropped aside, The sweet old way liowoti like a flower-cup dashed with rain ; The darkness crossing half your face, And just the glimmer of a' smile For one to trace. If I could see your eyes,-that reach Far out into the furth crest sky, "Where, past the trail of dying uns, The old years lie ; Or touch your silent lips to-night, And steal the sadness from their smile, And find the. last kiss th'ej've kept Th hi weary while ! If I could hef-O, all in vain.. The restless trouble of my soul Sots,"1 as the great tides to the moon, Toward your control ' In Vain the longing of the. lips, . The eye's desire, and the pain ; The hunger of the heart O, love, Is it in vain ? A Woman's Love for the Beauti ful. A women went into a barber's shop on C. street some weeks a;o and want ol to know how much it would cost to dye a man's hair and mustache. The price was named and she then asked the barber to get his dye and follow her. "Why can't the mancomc here?" asked the barber. "lie's dead," replied the woman, "and the last thing he said when he was passing away was: 'Sally, fix me up pretty for the funeral.' His hair curled beautifully, but was a lit tle gray. It won't look well to see a woman crying round a coffin with an old gray-bearded man in it. So I want him fixed up a little. He was always a beauty when he he had his hair dyed. I know I'd want mine fixed that way if I was gray and dead." ' The barber, dyed the dead man's hair in the highest style of the art, and the widow remarked, when all was-over, that "he was tho loveliest corpse ever buried on the Camstock." Virginia Chronicle. A witness was testifying that on ho morning after the murder he met the defendant at breakfast, and the latter "called the waiter and said" "Hold on !" exclaimed the attorney for the defence, "I object to what he said." Then followed a legal argu ment of about an hour and a half on the objection which was overruled, and the court decided that the wit ness might state what was said. -'Well go on and state what was said to the waiter," remarked the district attor ney, flushed with his legal victory. "Well," replied the witness, "ho said, 'Bring me a raro beefsteak and ,a couple of soft-boiled eggs." A too-sensitive lover io Burke county Ga., has, broken off Dis engage ment because bis sweetheart named her pet-calf after him A WILD ADVENTURE. An Indian Story from the Arkan sas Country. San Francisco Golden Era.l Sam S. Hall, "Bnckskin Sam," and old Kip Ford were trapping in the Ar kansas river region. They were men of desperate courage, who had taken their lives in their hands too often to care for the dangers they were expos ed to. Old Rip was a man who stood five feet eleven in his moccasins a man whom you would hardly care to meet In the close tug of a desperate battle. His hard browi face was seamed with scars from bullet,kntfeand claws of wild beasts, and bis muscular body showed the marks of many a desperate struggle. "Buckskin Sam" was the beau ideal of a mountain and plains man, the Western hunter that tho novelist paints and the school boy dreams of and wishes some day to be. Although not so powerful as Old Kip, he was a man of great personal strength and desperate courage. For many a year these two had roamed the trappings together, fighting In dians, grizzlies and wolves, chased be night over the burning prairies, de fending their camp against the sudden attacks of red fiends or spending reck lessly at the montc board the money they had earned so hardly on the trapping ground. .-"They had been out all winter, and, as spring approached, the last cache was covered, and the trappers now began to think of returning home. The camp was built up near the river, a tributary of the Canadian which flowed through dismal canons, in j which the light of day never shows, under the sbaddow of giant cliffs upon which human beings never yet set foot, and only sprca ling out at places where the cunning beaver had built his dam. The river was broken bv great rapids, and abounded in rare fish, upon which they had feasted royally for many a da'. The' had a canoe, and had been discussing the chance of going down the stream in that, in order to save time. "I am ready to take the chances if you arc, Rip' said Sam. "I don't like to give myself away," said Tvip. "What do y'on know about the river, after we get down to the big canon, and who ever passed through it?" "That's the fun of thing, Pup. We do .what no one else dare do," said Sam. "I don't like it," replied Ford, who was by far the most prudent of the two. "I ha! what in Jehu is that?" They seized their weapons and ran to the door of the hut, just in time' to see a dozen Indians running down through the grass blocking up tho only way of escape. The moment the repeating rifles began to play upon them they went out of sight among the rocks and began their gradual approach, which could only end in one way the white trappers would be over whelmed. "There's only one chance, Ilip," cried Sam. "And that ?" "The canoe." . "I'm your man," cried the giant trapper. "You push the canoo into the water and throw in the. weapons, while I keep those fellows at bay. Oh, would you? Take that !" An Indian had raised his tufted head to get a better shot at the trap pers; but before he could get back the unfailing eyes of the trapper had looked through the doable sights and the rifle cracked. The Indian sprang suddenly to . his feet, spun sharp around upon his heel and fell dead in his tracks. The next moment tho canoe shot from the bank and headed down through the boiling flood, plunging in the canoo below so rapidly that the Indians had scarcely time to recover from their amazement at the sudden cxndus before the trappers were out f siirht. One of tbeludians bounded to bis feet and uttered a low signal whoop, and two large canoes, contain ing in all about fifteen men, rounded a point in the river above the canon and came flying down under the strokes of the paddles. The Indians on the shore simply pointed down the stream, and the canoes dashed by at a furious speed, the wild yell of the savages announcing to the white men that they were pursued. . The . first rapid passed, they entered a long stretch of water where the current was only four or five miles an hour, and there the propelling forco in the other canoes began to tell, and the In dians gained rapidly. . On each side of the canoe the canon was like a wall, two hundred feet in height, and the- trappers could only put all their strength in the paddles and dash on as fast as they could Two miles further and the pursuing canoes were scarcely a hundred yards be hind, the Indians yelling like demons as they saw the white men almost! in their grasp. Rip Ford shook his head as he looked over his shoulder, when suddenly his canoe was seized by a mighty force and ' hurled downward, like a bullet from a rifle. They had struck another rapid more powerful than the first, and the rocks absolute ly seemed to fly past them. "This is something like it," cried the daring Bnckskin Sara. "How we do move.?' "I should say we did, old boy," re plied Rip. "I am only afraid we are moving too fast." "Don't you believe it ; those fellows seem to be standing still," said Sam. "They will get in the current in a moment," gasped Rip. "Look at that." The headmost canoo of the Indians appeared upon the crest of the rapid, and came flying down after tho trap pers at a furious speed. The Indians no longer used their paddles with the exception of the man who eat at the stern, out by a touch on the water, now on one bide, now on the other, regulated the course of the canoe. ! The second canoe followed in a mo- irient, a little further in shore. As they gazed tho bow of tho last canoe was suddenly lifted into the air as it struck a brown rock channel, which the occupants tried in vain to avoid. The fierce current caught the stern, and in an instant there was nothing left of the craft, save broken frag ments, while the occupants, with loud shrieks of terror, were borne swiftly on by the resistless tide. "That ends them," said Rip Ford. "Be careful, Sam, for your life !" On, on, borne: by the power which they could not resist, the two canoes were hurried. There was a scene of wild exultation in the hearts of the white men, for ! they could sec that their enemy would have gladly escaped, if they could, from the perils that surrounded them. Their mad desire for scalps and plunder had led them into a trap, and they no longer thought of the chase before them. They knew, as! the whites did not, the terrible danger before tbem, for they had explored the banks of the stream on foot many times. The river suddenly narrowed, and the trap pers suddenly rushed into a canon barely twenty feet wide and nearly roofed over by the cliff on each side. The current was not quite so rapid here, and they guided the canoe easi- "This gets interesting, Rip," said Sam, as they went on through the narrow pass, j- "We are going " "To our death," interrupted Rip Ford, in a solemn voice. "Do you hear the falls?" I Through the splash of water and the dip of the paddles they heard a low, dead, tremulous roar, which was the sound of falling water. For a I moment the bronzed face of Sam blanched, and tbco be drew bis figure up proudly, saying: "Better than the scalping-knife or stake, old friend. As the Frenchman says, 'Vice la mortr Long lire death!" It was, indeed, before tbcro, for as they shot out of tho narrow pass they saw the falls before them bow high they" could not tell, but the smoke which arose showed that it was not a small one. "Keep ber bead to it," cried Rip. "If we don't get through it's good-by forever, Sam." The swift current caught tbero, and the canoe, buried forward with ter rible force, went flying toward the verge. A moment more and it shot out into the mist and went down into the unknown depths. Each man clung to his paddb as he went down, held by an invisible power, whirled to and fro, as in a mael-strom, and then shot up into the light below the falls. Far below them the canoe floated, and as the current swept them down the two men looked back in time to ? - ' i . . -' - see the Indians canoe come over the falls sideways without an occupant. It was hurled far out, and fell lightly on the water, only to be arrested by the strong arm of Buckskin Sam. The Indians, appalled by their dan ger, had upset the canoe in their frantic efforts to escape. What be came of them, the trappers never knew, for when they reached the foot of the rapid, far below the falls, and righted the canoe, they made no pause, but hurried down the stream, and be fore night were safely floating in the waters of the Canadian river. Two days later they reached Fort Sill in safety. Thin Skins. No doubt sensitiveness is a mark of a refined temperament, but in view of the roughness of everyday life we can but think that too much of it is a positive misfortune. The sensitive man is never thorough ly happy. He is too thin-skinned to bear with equanimity the temperature of the world at large. He is always getting slighted by somebody, lie is always having his feelings hurt. He is al ways left out when he should be count ed in, and vice versa. If Mrs. A., who is near-sighted, and would not recognize her grandfather three doors off, meets him in the street and does not know how he is slight ed Mrs. A., has cut him. If Jenkins has a party, andinvitesadozen friends and leaves our thin-skinned man out, he feels himself aggrieved. If his next-door neighbor has an attack of dyspepsia, and wears a long face in consequence, our sensitive man is sure there is something wrong. Somebody has been misrepresenting him! He is always in trouble. As a child his nose will be perpetually out of joint; as a young man, his teachers will bo in a conspiracy against him to prevent him from gaining the honors; and when it comes to falling in love, and going courting, heaven preserve him. ! for if there is a marriageable man within ten miles or his "beloved" he will be sure to think she favors him. Your thin-skinned man is always taking hints. The old adage says, "If the saddle fits you, buckle the girths." He is continually buckling girths. If anybody langhs behind his back, they are laughing at him. If he has a long nose, and noses are mentioned, ho is sure to be attacked. If he comb from a poor family, and anybody mentions poverty, he is ready to flare up they are twitting him with his humble origin ! His friends arc a source of unhappi- ncss to him, for they must talk of something, and who can manage con versation so skilfully as not to run against some of tho angles- of a sensi tive man ? The minister means him, be feels sure, when he is preaching about spe cial sinners, and consequently h& re fuses to subscribe fifty dollars to that worthy's salary. Almost evey newspaper artrde he reads hits him, and he is ready to beard tho editor and challenge the author in behalf of his wounded feel ings. In short, he leads a life of it, and every humane person must pity him. Time will, rn some measure, wear away extreme sensitiveness, but it is a long, hard process, and if any of our readers are born with thick skins, let them thank fortune for it. For it is a fact that this world will go on just as it has gone on for ages, totally unmindful of individual feelings heedless of crushed spirits and broken hearts, careless of lost happiness, in different to the joys or sorrows of its inhabitants. And the man who is never slighted, who never takes hints, who is never downcast because of evil doers, who can TO on secure in his own sense of right doing, and receive no wounds of feeling orv sensibility, is the man whose days will be many, whose sleep will be quiet. ' Happy individual ! ;"Go way, Julius, Ise been eatin' onions," said she. Ho said, "I don't hanker after onions as a fruit thcre selves, Sarah Jane, but then you know I-: like to get my nose pretty close .to where they've been." Doing! the Local ItchH. From the Cincinnati Times. "Are you the boss V he said, com ing into the smoky office and drop ping a grip-sack into the corner, that looked as thin as a religious devotee after Lent, and as dilapidated as a custard pie after a pic nic, "because if you are I want to talk to you, and if yott ain't I want you to show me the man who is." He was informed that ho was now speaking to the chief of the local de partment. f "You are the very man, sir, I want to see j you see, I'm a funny man, and I want to write something funny for your paper something, you know, that will make men forget their sor rows and afflictions, something that will make people happier, and turn up the silver edge of tho dingy old cumu lus that shadows the firmament of many a weary, worn-out sobl, some thing that will make a man hilarious in his hoursjof trial, and joyous when the vulture of despair is picking out chunks of his vitals like a patent sicam snovei in a ravei-DanK some thing but you know, in your posi tion the demand of the people for more comedy and less tragedy, more fun and less fury. Xevcr more but why extend my remarks ? You know all, and don't 3:011 think 3-011 could find a5 place on your paper for me ? Salary is no object. What I want is a place to be useful, a stepping stone to higher things." The "boss" thought the stranger was right in his views of taking the sunny Bide of life and being happy while we could, and acknowledging that there was, a de mand for light literature of the purer variety, told the funny man to pull off his coat and go at it. With an alacrit- that was born of genius he borrowed a pencil, a knife to sharpen it with, a. chew of tobacco, and takingithe first empty chair and desk in' reach, announced himself as re.dy for biz. "Well," remarked the city editor, "we don't want everything funny sometimes we may want something of a serious character written up, and then, of course, ou arc to exercise yourjudgmcnt and shape it according ly." "Certainl-r certainly' he said. "I know how to be solemn ; I've been at funerals, and hangings, and weddings, and sudden deaths, and suicides, and have seen emotional dramas and all those things, and my melancholy ex pression and sympathetic style never failed to excite the highest en- comiums "Very weHr then; hero are some memoranda which I want you to write up and put in there for the first edition. This is one on the death of Mr. Jacob Smith, one on a case of fearful maltreatment of a wife and child by a drunken husband, and a wedding. The verses contain the par ticulars. Now write 'em up, and mind you get them right." In the course of an hour he sub mitted a pile of manuscript, and this a what the scrio comic stranger had written : ON THE DEATH" OF JACOB SMITH. Yesterday at 1 o'clock p. jr., death invaded the household of this estim able gentleman, and, finding him ly ing flat on bia back in a front room up stairs, white his wife was out to the dressmaker's trying on. a new eilk dress, he wrestled with Jacob Greco Roman style, and ' got him down worse than yon ever heard of; in fact, completely got away with him, and Jake had to pass in his checks and waltz along with the old gentleman over into the promised land. His (Jacob's) wife, being otherwise engaged, as before stated, he called for the servant-girl and told her how he felt. Says he: "I'nvcallcd, and I can't ante, and the jig's up. Fix mo in good trim when the undertaker calls, and put a copy of a comic al manac in my breast-pocket, so that I can read on the way over. Give mo a plain wooden box, so that the dif ference in price can go toward paying for last month's rent, and don't have a big funeral for I never could stand extravagance. I'd like to have a red coffin, though, for red suits my com plexion. :Tell the old lady good bye, and say to her I can't leave my ad dress very; well, but when she comes after me she mustn't fail to hunt, up the stopping-place of; Jacob. Smith, Good-bye. Ta ta ! Skip the gutter." And that was tho end of Jacob. Ho leaves a large family, a good-looklhg wife, and a big mortgage on his pro perty, but Jake doesn't bother his mind over anything on this side of tho sublunary sphere any longer fyluribui mori memento u num. The next one was about the family row, and read : To-day about 10 o'clock the elegant up town neighborhood were pleased and gratified to hear tho piercing' shrieks of a woman and child who were receiving a charming a nt mag nanimous beating b- the husband and father, who had been partaking of tho genial and generous quality of rich red wine at his aristocratic club down town. Tho man's name was Jones, and it appears. the wife had told him the name was a very common one, and that there was moro than 000 Jones in the world ; wheieat ho became vir tuously idignant, and the wino ren dering him creless of public opinion, he at once proceeded to give tho lady an artistic and pleasing castigation, and when the child cried in the sweet melodious manner peculiar ; to tho genus homo in the earlier stages of de velopment, at sight of its mother's re ward, Mr. Jones cheerfully and kindly hit it a back-handed, scientific blow in the mouth, and landed it bleeding, in very high colors under the bed. At thi9 stage of the conicd a. guardian of the pieces (so-called because a policeman always gets. in after every thing is broken up) interfered with the health and invigoralingdiverlisc ment of Jonesand carried him away in a hand-cart to the station house. "I'd like to be married man, And with those martyrs stand, To kick my wife with a Xo. 10 Loot And bust the baby with my hand." The last one was on the wcddinir. nud showed clearly the genius of the man. It read ; Slowly the train moved adown tho old cathedral aisle, grandly roso tho swell of the great organ and anon swept its soft cadences along the arches and through the mullioned windows of the ancient pile. Jn tho chancel stood the holy man in all the vestments of the priesthood, with bow ,ed head and crossed handsr solemnly awaited the corteg. filing down tho aisle like the slowly moving stream of destiny aTong the corridors of time. Two souls, )'estcrday joyous and free, overflowing with young life and buoy ant expectancy, laughing and singing like the little birds in the trees, to day, with heads hung low, dressed for that journey whence there can bo no full and complete return, surrounded by fried s with hearts full of sympathy and eyes full of love, go down the path of the church, to let the minister of grace place upon their hands tho golden fetters of conjugal slavery. They stand close up to the door of the future, but cannot see beyond its 'impenetrable thickness. It will open. to tb-era soon enough, and usher them into a new world of sorrow and grief, of board bills, of cradles and crosses, and his happy heart will bo drowned n the midnight paregoric, and her joyous smile will bo extinguished wtver be comes home sotno night and gets into bed with his boots on. But why goon? Look upon the priest who docs Ibis dark deed he smiles in his awful work, for be knows that 3Icl chizedek Muldoon, when hois married to the widow Ruster, wilt havo the funds to give the preacher a fifty dol lar fee. "As life is fultof woes and woes. And death. is not much better, I'd marry a girl with a million pounds. If her dad would only let her." The editor didn't say anything, but looked unutterable things, fearful pos sibilities, frightful imaginings, awful probabilities, and, twitching his fingersr in a horrible, throatry way, struggled for expression, and, like a man in a nightmare, gasped out one word. "Door," and pointed that way, and the funny, man reached one reach for his grip-sack, and with the pcneilt,tho. knife, and the tobacco he had borrow ed, went out into tho great unseen. . A darkey was boasting to a grocor of the cheapness often pounds of sugar he had purchased at .a rival shop. "Let me weigh the package,'' said tho. grocer. The darkey assented and -it was found two pounds short. Tho colored gentleman looked . perplexed for a moment, and then said : "Gue he didn't cheat dis chile, much. While ho was gitten' de sugar. I. stolo twOy pair of shoes.".