Newspapers / Lincoln Progress (Lincolnton, N.C.) / July 19, 1879, edition 1 / Page 1
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. . - ' . : f - ' ; . . ' 2. 0. J6fc ' f f An Independent Family Newspaper: For tin Promotion of tho Political Social, Arriculturnl and Commercial Ititercdta of the Obiitili VOL. 7. LINCOLNTON, N. C, SATURDAY, JULY 19, 18T9. NO 347, nrnu.- , Zt sinoln rogtrrss. PUBLISHED BY DeLANE BHOTIIER8, TERMS-IS ADVANCE: One copy, one year,.... ?2.00 i.np sir inuntlis - l.UHl Single copy pa charge. ADVERTISEMENTS Will be inserted at One Dollar per square (one inch,) for the first, and Fifty cent per square for each subsequent insertion less than three months. No advertise ment considered less than a square. Quarterly, Scmi-Annnal or Yearly con torts will be made on liberal terms the contract, however, must in all cases be confined to the immediate business of the firm or individual contracting. Obituary Notices and Tributes of "Res pert, rated as advertisements. Announce ments of Marriaires- and Deaths, and no tices of a religious character, inserted eratis. and solicited. . Selected 2?octrM- THE RING MY MOTHER WORE. X The earth has many treasures rare, In gems and golden ore; ? I v heart hath one, more precious far The rins my mother wore. 1 saw it first, when I, a child, Was playing by her side; She told me then 'twas father's gift When she became his bride. I saw it oft in sorrow's hours, Which marked the after years, When shining on the soft white hand That, wiped away my tears, And, oli ! 1 saw it once again, ' Vh ;n, on her dying bed, She lifted' up her hand in prayer, And lai-1 it on my head. Jlenide that bed, where fell my teur.s, The rimr to me was given ; Miejdaced it on my hand, and .said, "We'll meet a .sain in Heaven ;" I kissed the cheek I oft had pressed, From which the rose had fled ; Ami, bowed with grief, stood motherless, Alone, beside the dead. Among the blest in realms above, Where sorrows are unknown, 0!i, m iy I meet my mother dear, No in re to weep alone. Her dying wonts of love and faith I'll cherish evermore Within the heart which holds so dear The ring my mother wore- Tho lo iest tunnel in the .world is undoubtedly that failed the '-Joseph 1. Adit, ' in Hungary, connecting the m Hes of Hodritz ami Sehcmnitz. It w:is-begun in 1732 during the reign of Jocph L, hence the name, and was completed in September, 1873, just ninetv-six wars. Its length is 10, o'W meters,. or nearly ten arid a half miles. The other lesser tunnels are those of Mt. Cents, 12,233 meters, and the St. Gotbard, 14,920. Boston Transcript. Discovery of a Mastodon. Nkwbi-roii, X- Y.. Juby 7. On Saturday some bones of ;i mastodon were discovered in a swarnp on the farm of Hugh Keller, in the town of Now Windsor, seven miles south west of this city. Excavations were immediately begun and still continue. The following have been found, and it is thought the entire skeleton will be found. Dimensions in inches skull, 45 long, 28 wide, 29 high, and 23 between the eyes; diameter- of nos trils, C inches, nostril extending into tho head 2 feet. Four teeth -were found in each jaw in an excellent state of preservation. The enamel is of a bluish tint and unbroken. The four back teeth arc eight-pointed,- measure 9 by 3 and three-fourth inches, and stood 4 intbes out of the jaw. The four front teeth are six pointed, and measure 4 by 3J inches. All of the bones of the legs have been Jbund except two pieces. The length of the fore leg, iafcteit&ig the shoulder-blade, is 7 feet, and the shoaldcr- blade 36 bv 27 h inches.. The sockets of the knee joints are from 7 to 9 inches in diameter. Twenty-four ribs have been found thus, far, the longest measuring forty-six inches Numerous vertebras have been exca vatcd, with part cf the feet. A small boy waa hoeing corn in a sterile field by tha roadside when a passer-bv stonned and said : "'Pears - 1 m to me your eor.n is ratker small." "Certainly," said, the boy,, "it's dwarf corn." "Rut. it looks vellow." "Cer- tainly," roplied the boj', "we pfanted ' yellow kind." "But it looks-as if you wouldoi.'t get more. than. balSa crop.' "Of course not," said' the- boy, "we plan ted her oa shares j To persons wno mane up cmns n ten or more names, an extra copy of the i v - r SISTER ANNE'S TOWER ' - WINDOW. now long ago did we givo the win dow its name? When we were little children, my brother, Fred, my father's pupil, Tom Birch, and myself. We had merry hearts in those days, and were far better versed in fairy love than in arithmetic and grammar. Father was a country schoolmaster, and Tom, an old farmer's son, board ed in our cottage, going to the old red school house with Fred and me everyi mornings -Tho tower uwindow was in a turret chamber father had added to the bouse for his astronomi cal observations. It looked upon the heavens, but it also commanded a view down tlje main road to the sea beyond. From it wo could see the wagons and people going to and from HuntsVillc, and far out to the sea the vessels, man of which found horror in Huntsville- Cove. But chiyfly did we use it to play Bluebeard, and whenever Annotte Churchill, our neighbor's daughter, would come and join' our games. One brother alono would corne to tho res cue of the illfaled wife, and we took turns in the personation of charac ter. All that was long ago ; so long that the tears dim my old eyes, thinking of the four children and the life pil grimage the have journeyed over, since those days. It iV Nellie's story I want to write, and Nettie was Tom's only child. We four, Tom, Fred, Annette, aud I, passed from childhood lo maturity in our quiet village, and when my brother married Annette and went to China, in' the employ of a great tea company, Tom and I were betrothed. Tom was by that time in his.cily home, working, his war to fortune. "Then my father died, and I took his place, in tha - old school-house, owning our cottage horrte.for Fred was doinsr well.-arid would touch none of the little money 'fttthMf -had saved. And Torn was false to trwl', He mar vied a Cuban rirl, notrjfti heiress, but poor as himself. Fret! ' wrote me a otter that made mo shudderingly re joice that the teas lay between my false lover, and I suffered asr loving women do suffer when they give their whole heart away to- hrcsve the returned. j Six years later my aunt died and left me a modest fortune, far above- my simple need,-so I gave up teach- g. Only si. months htter Tom wrote to me. lie was dying,- and1 his wife already dead. He implored me to lake his little girl, Jeannette, and I hastened to the city to bid him farewell, to hold his cold hand once nwrc in mine and promise true love and a1 happy home to the .little creature who already clung to me. Fred was furious. I do not like to recall the bitter. letter he wrote to mo of unmaidly forwardness. You under stand, I was still under thirty, though I felt very much older, and Hunts ville people called me an old maid. But I wculd not trust Tom's child into the word friendless, even if Fred stormed, and so I took Netttie home. She was a beautiful little creature, with soft dark ces and bright, golden hair, and from the first days of our intercourse I knew that she was one to suffer much or rejoice much. She was keenly sensitive, full of loving, tender emotions, and with two lives, one of reality, one of imagination. She idealized everything, and I built jrrand castles in the air of her fortune fame as an artist, a poet, or a novel ist. - T ttar a fond- foolish old maid. In stead of clipping the wings of her fancy by. prosaic teachingf " fostered and encouraged it. I was her only teacher, and our lessons were unfitted for any but Nettie. 9ur geograp hy was travel over tho glov topping here or there while we talked ,0jf the counties under tho. pencil point. Wef made our arithmetic into rhyme, and if wc gave a fore-noon to solid study, we spent the afternoon roaming in the woods, sketching or versify ing. In music wo generally delighted, and Nettie's one master waa- our; old organist, who trained her slender; fin ders over the piano, aud. orgao-j j . keys. Need I say that tho ckUd revelled 1 in our tower window i 2?ot a; day passed but she spent some portion of it looking out upon .the road or sea. In winter she would wrap herself in a great shawl, and watch the storms till she was half frozen ; and, in sum mer, the hottest sun that baked thfe" roof could not keep her away from her favorate seat. She established a library 'in the turret, and wrote verses describing our j'outhful iports and 'Sister Anne's Tower Window." But she never cared to play with i street ! tfce village children ' Is taught her lof lt;is not 90 far brill can carry my sew, as a matter of duty, and Susan, my old servant, gave her lessons in housowifer', but she cared for neither and nobody forcod her inclinations. So she grew up till she was eighteen, a beautiful, dreamy girl, loving and good, but, ah, me! very unfit for tho world's hard usage. She was just eighteen when Fred sent his only son to New York to carry on the tea business. Fred and I had long before made up our differences, and many a handsome present came from his full purse to his sister. Yet ho wrote : "Charlie will come to' etc you, of course. . But do not let birrr grow in timate with Tom Birch"? daughter. She comes of a faithless father, a frivo lous mother, and I have never forgot ton her father's treachery.'' . "Now, was it not in the Ver- nature 1 of Fate's perversities for Charlie to come on a June evening when Nettie was singing to mo ? She was dress ed in one of the fleecy muslins Fred had sent to me, and had pule blue flowers in her hair and at her thi'oat. How long Charlie stood on the porch looking iti at us, 1 cannot say, but when he stepped over the window-sill 1 Mr in his large dark eyes .-an ex pression that made my heart sink. lnew him instantly, for he had FrcdV handsome face, Fred's tall, erect figure, and Fred's clear, ringing voice. He was like a breath of, -fresh west wind in our quiet life. Nettie was accustomed to such society as Huntsvile afforded, and we had spent two winters in New; York, but Charlie could tell LeV of wondcrous foreign lands. He had been educated in Germany, had traveled in England, Spain, France, had lived in China. What ire the twenty-five years of life li-a'd he not seen ? Aifd yet he was as unaffected and frank as a boy. Could 1 turn him out. when he-announced his intention-of paying me a month's visit, before setting down to work in New York?' Could I tell him his father's wish-,-and lower my darling in the eyes- of an man,, for her father's fault ? 1 wrote to Fred, and told him' truly what my Nettie was, anticipating no future, but simply stating my own conviction that no man could seek or win a greater treasure than the pure hearted maiden who was the comfort of my life. Yet 1 strove conscientiously to guard Nettie by telling her of Fred's great ambitions for his only son, of his riches, his pride, hinting that he probably looked for great wealth and position in his future daughter. And Nettie assented, as innocent as a child. And yet,, Charlie would climb tbe narrow stairs, and read Nctti'.'s verses, look out of the tower window with her, to criticise the people on do road, or watch the road, or watch the sea and sky. Charlie would join us in our rambles, gather wild strawber ries in broad leaves for Nettie, violets in tiny bunches for Nettie, primreses, daisies, dainty fern leaves, all for Net tie. When July came, ho left us, but he came to and fro, and bought a low carriage and gentle horse for me "to meet him at the steamboat j landk ! Atv ray one dragon like precaution was to go alone when he bad expect ed, knowing Nettie watched ' every step of my journey from the tower WindowX Wnen thi leaves had turned to crimson and gold, Charlie aaked Nettie to be his wife, and V7hcn tho mischief was done, 1 showed biny. his iblker's letter telling Nettie as gently as F eonld; why her father's child rould;novbe welcome ia ray brother's Konvo. - ' . . Sho'wus-gerntHv dignified,-refusing otterly t& Irsten to Charlie, but won, at last, to own her love,- her willing ness to be his wife, if ho could gain his" faincr's consent. And Charms, wfth a quiet ran'ty I had never' seen before upon his hand some face, said : ! wflf see my, fatrYef, auntie, and convince him of my love and his pre judice. It would be altogether use less to write, so I will go at once lo China.1' "Yoa talk irs rf H was across the Jove there, and brmg it -safely back again. Father loves me and if h3 knows my life's happiness feats with him, he will uot rVcf unreasonable Probably I can pcrsu&de him to re turn with me, for ho htis long talked of retiring. Nettie, will you tniBt me and wait for me, till I come again?" 'I will trust you, and wait foryou, Nettie answered. But after Charlie left us, my dar ling drooped so visibly that I knew at last that even in one summer a woman's heart may love till that love' is her very life. I had lived down my own heart sorrow, but Nettie waff of a different nature. And she did not know Fred. 1 was as sure of Charlie's love winning my brother over as 1 was of my life. His very honor would shriek from Charlie's committing the same crimo against manhood's holiest ties, as Tom Birch had committed years before. The winter "wore away slowly. Nettie took a severe cold sitting in the turret, and she could not shake off the cough. She would not have a doctor, and, indeed she looked so well that I had no fear. Never had 1 watched consumption's treacherous inroads, and I did not guess the mean ing of the brilliant eyes, and deeply tinted cheeks, that would hav6 told an experienced eye of my darlrng's danger. The cough was more trouble some at night, and Nettie hid thftf fromme. Spring came, arfd we be gan to hope for Charlio'd return ; but Nettie would not walk out much ; she ceased to sing; she panted on the stairs she had once scaled so easily. Too late 1 sought advice, and heard only the hopeless verdict : "She may live till autumn, but her lungs are in curablv diseased !" 'Oh, my darling ! Shall I ever again know the self-reproaching agony of that hour? I wakened from a stunned stupor of pain to find Nettie clinging to me. "Don't grieve so," she whispered. "I know ! lou know 1 have poor mamma's diary, and my last year is jiist like hers. I could almost believe I had written what I read, day after da-. But, auntie, pray for me, and 1 may see Charlie just once more.'' I kiow then why she climbed the turret' st'aVfr so' wearilv etfery morn ing, evefy cVening, at fha'tiours wneff the : New York boat t'ouched the Huntsville warf. In June the letter came. Fred had consented to bis son's happiness,- and they were coming back togefberv "You and I will live in tbe old house," Fred wrote,, "and Charlie carry on the business in New York "Expect us by the ll':30 boat on Wednesday?" rNettie had never looked fsWer than. ps that Wednesday morning vybisn she stood upon the porch, watching me gather up the reins to drive to the boat. She wore white only a soft dress of muslin with lace ruffles, an ivory comb holding the rippling-bands of hair and falling curls fropa her sweet face. There was a radiance' of happiness in her countenance that filled my heart with hope. "Charlie's coming will make her well' I thought, "in spiie of the doctor's prophecies." Aly expected guests were at the warf, and we drove home rapidly, our eyes often seeking the tower window from which a handkerchief fluttered. Whn we were near, we could see the golden head resting on the back of the old arm-chair near the window, bat Nettie did not come lo meet us at the door.;' ' V'-' ; . Charlio sprang op the turret slijir? before us, but we ; followed.- A cry as a' tuAr gi Vjssohly in extreme of agony ..hurried our steps, and1 we en tered the little, sqttare room" only to see Charlie knceKng-by the atmfctdir; vainly striving, with fond words and caresses, to win one word of welcome from his betrothed. Smiling still, hr eyes fixed upon the road, her heart full of expectant happiness, Jiettie had left ns forever, keeping her last watch at Sister Anne's Tower Win dOW. ''. A Lesson in Law. The average American farmer Cer tainly knows how to look: after his harvest, and lie has a keen wit. that is hard to get orer, Kor example i Some days ago the conductor of a freight train wbo jwna.: out- with his train, - saw a, ' couplo- of. fine-looking ducks on the river near the track. He had a shot-gun in the caboose car. and stopping the train for a few min utes, ho got off and shot both tbe birds. He thought this Was some thing to congratulate himself on, and when he reached his home he in vited a littleparty of friends to partake of the fruits of his prowess. A Couple of days afteif this the Conductor hap pened to bo stopped at the place where tho ducks had been shot. He got out his gun and walked down to the river with the intention Of bag giiig si couple more', - if possible. He had scarcely reached tho edge of the river, before a man who looked like a farmer, approached him and said : "Are you the man who shot those two' ducks here day before yester day?" "Yes, that ws the," said tbe sports man, rathe? proudly. "Well, those ducfrs belonged to me. They Wflfsrr't any of yotrf vttrd ducks, but tame" dnes." "Oh, pshaw 1 You can't fool me. I guess 1 know a? wild duck from a tame one." "Will you pay for the ducks ?" said the farmer, coolly. "No, sir, I worv't. Ydi Can't prove the ducks were not wild ones." "All right," said the farmer starting 6ft toward the nearest village. "Where are you going? What do you intend to do ?" asked the conduct or. "Well," said the farmer,-rjjHiictly, as he leaned against a tree, "I am going to a 'square to make an information against you for killing wild ducks out of season. If you insist that them ducks was wild, it'll cost you $5 a duck. If you come to the conclusion they were tame, it'll only cost you $2.50 a duck. Now what'U you do ?" Tbe conductor started at his tor mentor, scratched his head, said some thing about ducks in particular and then paid the $5. He docs not carry a gun in his car any more. Bribed bv a Kiss. A temperance lecturer who has been at work in the towns up the Hudson, has given a reporter a page from his early experience in Michigan. Previous to his arrival in a small town where he intended to do some work, the boys had agreed among them selves to go to the meeting, but net to sign' the 1 pledge. He appealed in vain for recruits in tbe temperance ranks. Not a man' Would move At tbiar stage of the proceedings the belie of the toWn sprang to her feet and cried but : "Boys, this is really too bad. -Won't you sign the pledge ?" Not a soul moved from his seat. Again the fair belle appealed to the men's better nature, but it was of no avail; they had promised they wouldn't sign. Finally the lady said ; "Boys, I'll kiss the first man who signs the pledge." At this juncture up jumped a tall backwoodsman and draWllngly exclaimed ; "Slss; I'm yer hucWe-berry. Whar's yer! pledge 7" The bra-re girl kissed the fellow, and the cheering which followed made the building rattle. This incident broke tbe ice, and before the reformer bad left the towni-nearly every one' had donned the ribbon. "Oh I you've killed me," said a girl as she staggered back when her loVer1 gave her a gentle embrance. "Pray forgive mo darling ; I wouldn't have nan you tor too wofia. j?or some time all was silence.- Then, after1 ex changing a . few words,- she said ; "iiitl me again, -John. It is strangely singular how the boy with a'pair of new suspenders hates to wear'a-eoat. Scaring: His Wife. the other day to givo his wife a healthy Scare, so as to make her more obedient a fid agreeable in the future ; so he put up a quarrel with her, and, bounding p stairs.dipped his razor in sorno brick dusLtnd water, which he had prepared (of the occasion, spilled rw.t.w mum vi mat w c-lllBf MUIIg com position ore?. the floor and flung him self ddwn with a crasb grasping the br1tkdost and water-stained razor in his band. lie waited eagerly to hear" a frightful shriek ringahrough the houseando gee jt woman with an! awful vruituiace and a irreat lament. self-accusing eyes, totter up the stairs; gasp "My husband 1" and go off into' a set of hysterics In seven acts and ten tableaux. He was however, doomed to disappointment. His wife measured slowly ap stairs, remark ing, "You pesky, fool, you'll break four neck yet, some of these days, if you will insist on putting both legs iri your trowsers simultaneously and when she opened the door and saw the horrible sight she said, "Well,! 'don't think nc bad the courago and sense of decency to do it. However; I look well in black, and it is a mercy I took up the bedroom carpets to-day and sent them to be cleaned." Then she called to the servant girl, "M'rio come here ; your master has killed himself !" And when the girl came and said, "Hadn't I better run for the doctor? I think I see his left leg wiggle a little," the Spartan mat ron replied : "No ; there's no uct throwing good money after bad. I wan't yon to see that I didn't kill him, and then run down to the Tribune and oll them to send a reporter up hero" for a scoop on tho other papers, and if you breathe a word of this to any Onb before the other papers have gone to press, 111 tell you,- young woman that you'll buj your raven tresses." Then she went down-stairs, locking tho door after her. nfter nudiblo wdhV dering whether the corpse would keepj and nftfr nhnnt hventv mJnntoR of impatient waiting for her flinty heart to melt, tho corpse had to give it up" and go and pound on the door1 to be let out. Chicago Tribune. How it Came to be Written. The Old (Xakcn Bucket' was writ-" ten' fiftvv 6'f more years ago by a' printer named Samuel Wood worth. Ho was in the habit of dropping into a noted drinking saloon kept by one Mallory. One day, after drinking a glass of brandy and water, hd' smack-' ed bis lips and declared mat Maiiory s brandy was surperior to art Ho ercf tasted. "No,' said Mallory, you' arc mis taken. There was a drink which in' both our estimations far surpassed' this.' What was that V incredulously asked Woodwortb. The fresh spring watdr' we uS'dd' tO' drink from the old oaken bucket that hung in the well, after Veturning-from' the fields on a sultry day.1 Very true,' replied Woodwoftb tear drops glistening in his eyes.- Returning to his printing oflice, ho' seated himself at his desk and began' to write. In half an hour "The old oaken bucket', the' iron-b6u'b(I bucket, The moss-covered bucket that h'un in the" well,"' was embalmed in' ah inspiring sdng, that has bdedme' as familiar as" a" household' wWd! Sure Signs.- To meet a' funeral is a' slgrt' of death. To dissipate to day is a' sigh' your" hair will pull to-morrow. To kiss a pretty girl against her will is a' slgtr you'll' get your facV scratched. To" take home a' beefsteak is a sigh" iberer will be a brbil in tho family-. To see a dog fly at a farmer's teg is a sign a misfortune is going to befall tbe calves. '-tfo'see a man loafing around a bar room is a sign be will drink if you ask him to. To see your sweethert kiss another fellow is a sign you will be disappoint' ed in a love affair "Now is the time to lay in your win ter fuel " as the tramp said when he .crept inictbelreplenisbed wood shed.
Lincoln Progress (Lincolnton, N.C.)
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July 19, 1879, edition 1
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