Newspapers / Carolina watchman. / April 19, 1877, edition 1 / Page 1
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VOL. vTII.THIRD SERIES SALISBURY, N. C, APRIL, 19, 1877. f or the V atchman. Tbaditiox. -In February, 17gJfwhen the army of Cornwallis were foiled in their attempt to cross the Yadkin at Trading V0ru, ingoing higher up the country to froSg the streams, they went oyer Grant's Creek by the present road, or some say lalf a mile lower down. At Gheen's bridge over second creek, some men and boys, of whom John Marlin was one, the father of the "present John Marlin, were set to guard a ford a short distance lelow, called the cowJord, when the light horse appeared. They fired once and ran to William Wil liamson's, who lived; where Cathey Rice now lives; who with William Wilson, who lived about two miles abore second creek, sent to cut down the bridge. They had this done juM as, the British bove in sight WUtfamaon - escaped, but Wilson tras ruling a slow norse; inecaivary over took; and eat 4iim tp badly, so that his bowels fell out. They left hiuv for dead, but a tdjrjLto. make sure of the matter shot hlilTtt infor bis neck. He Crawled out. however, into the bushes, till they had all passed aH4le-erawiea ; mue aim ; nuarter. to the place where the late Thom as Wood lived, carryiug his bowels in his hands; (it seems they were not cut open) recovered and lived to be an old man migrated to Kntherford co., lenn., near xfnrfreesboro. A man by the name of Todd, met sud denly, inhuming a corner, Tarletonat the head of hiscilvaTyJ Tarleton liailed liim, kit he replica by shooting a bullet through . tott of Ids hat: and having a swift Wap. escaped. - - . . . The army crossed Fourth Creek at Cor-ri-ll's Mill,.veiiWySfahtf Rice's ti lynch er's And, and so to the main - Yadkin, at Hnntsvllle. They crossed the Catawba Feb. 1, ,aud the 9th they camped at the Moravian settlement, Bethania. The writer of the above says I have gathered the above traditions within a few 1 days; by publishing it you may draw out more. - E. F. 11. For the Watchman. THE SCOTCH IRISH. IX NEW ENGLAND. In a sermon preached by lie v. Charles Jiiiuiiuonu as me rwucuicauou ui acumen at Union, Conn. July 25, j 1SG6, he says : i ii j.. .1: i.: ..e -l 1 "Many of the early inhabitants of this town 1734 belonged to the Scotch Irish emigration of that period. These people were really Scotch, and had no trace of Irish bood,-hor'd2d they have any sympa thy wifh 1 their religion. They hated Popery, as bad as their ancestors did, who emigrated from Scotland to the north of Ireland in the time of Cromwell. In mat ters of religious doctrine, they harmonized with the. Puritans;; but in church iolity; they were Prebyteriansof a decided ty pe, and for this reason, doubtless, they were not not cordially welcomed in New Eng land. lit their search for homes, they went 1 .1 J 1 A .1 1 1 . .. t'liienv 'io ine new towns ;um uoruer set tlements, evidently for the purpose of avoiding conflicts with those whose social institutions were already established. harge numbers went to the southern coun ties of New Hampshire. Palmer, in Mass- adiusetts, were scttkl by them; and sev- eiil falnilies ciinie here,-some . of which were amoug the very ti rst settlers. W liere ever they went in sufiicieut numbers, they planted Presbyterian churches; many of which remain till this day. I he Presby terian jcnurcn ftp fanner ueeame congrega tional m IBIO, TJ$ Scotch IriftU'lMMvple were intelligent and honest, ' industrious and thriving. Like the Puritans, they had suffered from ligious , persecutions, and hence they loved civil and religious liberty. They had little symputhy with the church mid state system, which they found in New England, but they were ready to tolerate differences of opinion, while they were true to their own convictions. The Scotch Irish were said to be gifted with two qualr ities, grit and grace; which means, I supy ' pose, that they wererfond of having their way, but were careful to pursue the right . way, especially in respect to their religion and their politics. I find, however, no toQft of social difficulties here, arising fronniiflerences of race or religion. The people cordially unite in settling a minis- . tor, and in building a meeting-house, and they were all in the habit toft attending public worship, Wien, however, the cliurchwas organized here four years after thetown was incorporated, and three years before the meeting-house was built, 1 turn fm 1 . fejit those of Puritan origin." vt uduics auioiij: us juemuer, e.v- . ' For the Watchman. uuring the efge of Paris, men of science therein vain tried 1 1. .To discover how to obtain heat with out a. combustible substance. , To obtain food from mineral matter Without the co-operation of life. 3. To renrodue eRnentiiil fitml nf iri.in. out of what Had never, before been Used Hence, James 5 1 7. ?J&TiUof the earth. It costs great la Wr of man and beast to bring food out of Ih mfi- n t . v , . ' . 1 vLl: .. .. . . ;: rV Vf viuust nave uie iiht, iieatfana otner fthesun. witho.rt tU.hr caoi8 r4." Jt crow, withofi rniTwTuir fooi wiL VhftMn; It v,""a UUUU U U1I111UU Ol UUiiaJB. "ow much then, is the yalue of all the and sunshine that we all enjoy over itt ' n producing so gi-eat a vari Bv .of articles from the earth for our MilItnrnia t ii. Mi! . .1 11 MCI OAKEY HALL. New Youk. April 6. gentleman who has seen Oakey Hall LoDdon, telegraphs as follows: "It not be improper for me to gay that u flight SBpectre of ti oiioi - 'on,ng frauds. The perpetual revival of cuarges made life intolerable to hinr, eame to think death better than to " lUQs constantly haunted. , lie said to V that he wished to be considered dead his ft iends, and to be forgotten. He is er7 greatly depressed, and seems to have . re for the fiitare,'? V - ant til.. - "WHweiemeBtSrin tne prouuc- i,p Tifble and ton of the fruits nf t , Mil It J I tUe IDte' yt a W some paper, that ineh deoth of rain bltter cr' "" FAITHFUL IN LITTLE. BY HESBY ST RETT ON - Author of LostXHp.' c; V. The Last Step. How the days sped I do not know j but they seemed to pass by like the- rushing of a river just before you come 'to a deep, dreadful waterfall, down which you must plunge into a flood that will drown you. Every morning and every evening carried us on to the terrible day ' when j we must quit our old house for -ever. I kept my school open till the very last ; for this was no time to lose a single penny I could win. There was no other house near that place where we could move to ; for the lowest rent was five shillings a week; and I could never undertake tolay HhatiSoiny school would be lost, as well as our home, and I must, try to begin again in a strange neighborhood, on the other side of the town,. where the rents were lower. What was to become of Transome and me baffled me whenever I looked forward. lie did not lie in bed any more, but sat beside me in the chimney-nook, whilst I taught the children, now and then stretching out his hand, his poor hand, crooked and drawn together with rheumatism, just to touch me. I knew after a while what he was thinking of then, though he never put it into words. . Well, weLhad to Tell ome of our goods ; the old loom for one, that used to make such a busy sound in our cottage early and late. The rest we carried with us to the other side oAhe town, into a small house, in a close, pent-up street, where the wiiul never blew across one's face witli a sweet, fresh breath. I did my utmost to gather together a few scholars ; and sometimes I had a few, and sometimes none. Tran some took to setting always at my side ; aud if I was away for half an hour, do ing a few errands, "he'd welcome me back as though I had been away from him all day. He began, too, to talk more, at times quite eagerly, as if lie was afraid lie might some day want to tell me something, and would not have the chance. I never knew him talk so much -as that long, dreary snmmer, when we were treading, slowly down those steps poor folks know : of, -step after step, downwards and down wauls, never stopping, till the last step crumbles away under one's feet, and all is lost! . We trotle on the last step, aud it crnm-bled-awiiy, underneath our old feet when the first sham touch of winter came Wc had kept up till then, pawning and selling our few-goods to buy bread for our mouths. But when the biting cold came, and our blankets were in the pawnshop, and I had not a morsel of flannel to wrap about fTransome's poor pained limbs, and no fire to give a little warmth to our worn iput frames, then I knew that all was lost ! I was sorely bewildered and beset. Had the Lord beenjleceiving us all these years? Had He brought us to old age, and to the very gates of death to forsake us at last ? Transome had leeu faithful, if a poor ignorant man can ever be faithful to his God. If either of us had been, unfaithful. jt was me ; amhsurely the Lord would uot visit Ujy sins and short commiugs upon him J 'Ally !' said Transome, one day, 'bring th' book, and read me again how th' bless ed Lord came to's 6 end upo' th' cross. So I opened my old Bible, so worn that it was worth nothing at the,' pawnshop ; aud I read aloud to him, shivering and shaking with cold as I read. There was n0t a spd of &Vfrin the or a crust . , 0 T ' , of bread in the cupboard. I had not a penny in the world,' and did not know where to turn to find one. We had not any friends. Transome being such a silent 1 . i . 2111H iiirr miri ' in ill I 111111111 v z and all my kinsfolk were dead and gone. It was forty years since I had. married away out of my county. I was thinking all these thoughts, tak ing no heed of the blessed words my tongue ' repeated; for I liad readibose chapters so , often to Transome, I did not need to think ' of them. How far even I had read I did not know, till all at once I heard Transome sajnng to himself; 'Scourged, and mocked, and crucified! God's own Son ! That were ten times ---- - TliAt word stung me to the core of my . ... , . ,t heart ; though , in my secret thoughts uau Known ix musF come xo mux. uui w cried' aloud, with very seems as it i coulu near myself even now ; and as if I could see Transome's thin, pale face, as he looks at Vie. ! ' 'Ally !' he said, thee'rt a gradely scholar. I Is na' there a verse somewhere, "faitliful unto death." 1 ' "AyT I sobbed, ''be thou faithful un. to death, and I will give theoa crown o life.'" 'That'sitT he cried 'learn it me, Ally, as yo learn the littlfe childer.' I could not say to him nay, though my heart was like to break. He caught hold, fast firm hold, pf my hand, asT said it to liini.over and over again ; him repeating it after me like the least of my scholars in our old house. It seemed hard to him ; or maybe he wanted the lesson to belong, for It was growing dark in the afternoon,. ! before he stopped I We'll stay one saying' it. ; other neet.1 he said. 'We've' been together many a long year. But to-morrow morn, Ally 1 , There was no need for : him 'to finish what he was saying. To-morrow we must go into the Union workhouse. Nothing else lay before us. We had fought our fight; and thiswas the end of it! I could not believe that it was aught save a dream; only I was cold and hungry, 'and so was Transome ; so cold and so hungry it could not be a dream. ,!'"" My lass T he said, &nderly, Very ten denly, and my mind called back the sound of his voice as we came home picking flowers along the canal-side, 'we mun remember as 't were God's own Son as deed upo' th' cross. If thee had to see me hang, it 'ud be far, far waur nor deein' i' th' union ; but it would na' be waur nor what He bore for us. j No, no, Ally j God Almighty's : dealing w? us is b(ter nor wiT Christ. And, Ally, His poor moth er stood by to see him dee upo' th' cross.' 'Oh I if it was only me,' I cried, 'I could bear it P 'Ah ! but theelt have to bear it for me,' he said, smiling on me ; it's just the same wi' me. If it were na' for thee, Ally, aw could go cheerfu' and glad to th' union ; for aw've noan so long to live. But never to hear " thee say "Good neet" as I fa' asleep, nor "Good day," when th' morn breaks, that's th' hurt, Lass, that's th' hurt.' In the dark cold night I took the few things we had left and pawned them, spending part of the money in coal and food ; and thinking that with the rest we might come out of the workhouse again in the spring, and I could get a little school together once again. I bought a small store of tobacco for Transome, for I knew how sorely he would-miss his pipe when we were parted. The long, long night wore away too soon ; aud then I went to the reliev- ing-ofific6r and got an order to go into the House. There was a glimmer of pale sunshine in the sky as Transome and me crept along the streets towards the Union work house, feeling as if everybody we met knew where we were going. Jle could not drag himself along save at a very slow pace ; and here and there, wherever there was a doorstep to an empty house, we were forced to sit down and rest. Tran sonic did not speak many words as we went along, for he was very weary with the journey ; but every now and then his poor fingers clasped my arm more tightly, as if he meant to say, 'Cheer up, Ally ; it must come right in the end.' Butat length we readied the end, the long, blank wall, and the great black doors ; and though we stood outside full five minutes, looking into each other's face, no help came. I was forced to ring the loud, clanging bell, and we crossed over the black doorsill into the workhouse. - VI. Good-Bye. We stood inside the great black doors, which swung to behind us, shutting us in although they would never open again, save, may-be, when we were borne out through them iii a pauper coffin. ,; Tran some leaned more heavily on my arm. A man in the workhouse suit was sitting in a little room just within the doors, and as we stood staring about us he called out sharply. 'Na thenil whatten yo standin' there for V he shouted ; 'canua' yo come on and tell me whatten yo want here V 'Me and my husband has brought an order to go into the House,' I said. 'Inside birds eh !' he said, laughing a little ; caught an' caged ! Go on then t' th' raeaster's office. First dur t' th' reet across the yard.' I guided poor Transome across a large, square yard, with nought to be seen save high walls on every side, with windows in them that had no curtains, like eyes without eyelids, looking down on us. But there was not a face to be seen at any of them ; and a mournful stillness filled the place. It was Transome that knocked at the master's door, a quiet, feeble knock that could never have been heard, if there had been much noise. We were called to go in, but we did not stay there many minutes; and the master sent a man with us to show us our separate wards. Once more we had to cross the great yard, Transome clinging to my arm, till we came to a door in tne wan, wnere we must say good-bye to one another. We never had said good-bye all those long years, those forty years, since he had taken me from my father's home in an otner county, now couiu l let mm go out of my sight t It was not like him setting off for his day's work, sure of com ing in again in the evening. How could him and me spend our time apart t 'Could na yo' leave us for two or three minutes V said Transome, to the man, feebly. 'Hoo's been th' best wjfe as ever a man had these forty years ; and aw dun- no now to bid ner good-bye. Uie us a minute longer to bo together.' 'That aw will.' answered the man. but it canna be more nor a two or three min utes. Bless yo7 ! ye'll see one another at prayers morn and neet, if yo' chosen to go ; and yoll ha' half an hour o Sunday, besides half a day out once a month. It's noan so bad is th' house, so as yo' getten reet side o' thmeaster.' He went off for a little while, leaving TranRome and me against the door into the women's wards ; with all those dark staring windows looking down on us. laid my head against the door-post, and broke out into heavy, heavy sobs. - 4Na, Ally, cried Transome, 'na, my lass ! Hush thee ! hush ' thee ! God' Al mighty's here as well as out yonder i' th world. He knows where we are ; and sure He loves us both, same as He's loved us all along. We mun put our trust in Him, and go through it; thee and me mun part. Eh t but aw wonder if God A'mighty looks down on ony hearts sorer nor ours at this moment o' timet' - .w . ' 'Only promise,' I said, through my sob- bing, 'promise me faithfully, youll be careful of yourself, and keep up, so as we can rret out aiib in the snrinsr. wl.Pn tl. warm weather 4s come. Oh I Transome, if I could only keen nigh you. and take . .... .. OJ eaTft of vow. I bonWnV; mlnil ' w W w r There's One as '11 take care on us both ' he answered, his voice trembling ; 'One as sav. ,"m never leave ti&- nr foiWL- thee." O'nv think o' that, my lass Tie's here i' th' workhouse itsen ; and nought '11 part Him away from thee nor me. Good-bye, Ally. Aw hear th' mancomin' back to us.' He stretched out both his hands to me, and I put mine into them, and we kissed each other solemnly, as if we were both about to die, and enter into another world. I saw his face quiver all over, and then there came across it a patient and quiet look, which never left it again, never! I knocked at the door before me, and pass ed in ; just catching a last sight of him turning away with nobody to lean upon. Then the door was thrust to between us, and I could see him no more. I did not heed much what was said to me, and I did not look about my new dwelling-place ; Only I followed a woman, who passed through many rooms, where the windows were high up in the walls so that nobody could reach the sills., and where there were groups of women all dressed alike, chattering most of them ; and there was a strange close smell. Oh ! how diff erent from the sweet air in our old home ! At last when 1 came to myself as it were, found I was sitting on a chair at the lead of a little narrow led, in a long room, with two long rows of beds down the sides of it, and a narrow path up the middle. All the beds were alike, and the bare, white-washed walls closed us in, with nothing to be seen through the high win dows, save a little bit of grey November. sky. There were old women all around me : some of them many vears older than even a few of them bed-ridden ; but they seemed too dull to take any notice of me. as if everything that was like life uul died out of them, save the bare life itself. Well ! there's no need to tell you much about the workhouse. Most noor folks iioav more of it than they care to know, either through their own troubles, or the troubles of their friends. I don't say a wold against it ; only I could not be with Transome. There! think what it was to lavebeen his wife forty years, with scarcely a brangle between us, and never a sulking quarrel, and all at once to be shut up in different parts, of the same building, with only a few walls and yards to part us, yet not be able to see mm, or even senu a oving message to him. I wet my pillow with my tears that night ; ay ! more than when my Willie died, as I wondered and wondered how he .was faring, and if he was warmly wrapped up, and how his pains were. But I could do nothing for nm, no more than it 1 was lying m my shroud and coffin. At last my loneliness and my trouble diove me to remem ber Him that is everywhere, and was with Transome as He was with me. 'Lord,' I said in my heart, for it was not altogether a prayer such as I had generally said to Him, 'Lord, if they'd only make his bed comfortable, and wrap him up well in the blankets! Do put it into their hearts5, Lord, for he's tried to serve Thee faithful all his life long.' After that I felt a little easier m my mind ; I fell asleep, and dreaming of the days when Willie was alive, only some times the clwld was Willie, and sometimes Pippin. I suppose it was because I had close to my pillow the little box that held the curl of Willie's hair, and Pippin's piece of money. It was the only thing I had brought in with jne, except a few bits of lineu Transome had woven for me years and years ago, which 1 had bleached as as white as snow in the frosts on the brew of the hill. (To be continued.) An old lady at Birmingham thinks she has had a special providence, and it is surely a remarkable coincidence. She was poor, needy and dependent on chare ity for her support. On Sunday, at church, she felt strongly impelled to put six cents, all she possessed, into the missionary. She hesitated, as she need tru At J v i r7 11, uub uu.uaj uijij ii m iuj and, a few minutes after, while return ing home, she picked up six cents in the road. On the subject of freezing out grass hoppers, a Mr. Yates writes to the St. Paul Press, from Medailia : "Two years ago, Messrs. Flanders, Wadsworth, and others, hatched out hoppers here in their offices by the stoves, and when they were about one-forth of an inch long, put them out on the sidewalk and subjected them to fifteen and eighteen degrees below zero. When, taken in, next day, they were as good as new, and, a trifle hungrier." ' From the New Tor Obserrer. DOES LIQUOR SELLING PAY T In 18C5 I took charge of the Presby te rian church in this place, then- a village of some four or five hundred inhabitants. There were three saloons in full blast, dealing out, without stint, their villainous compounds, warranted, to kill at eighty rods. Saloon No. 1 was a regular Irish she been. The man and his wife were both Uberaf patrons of their own bar. Ere long xc" ," wuu?r n poison. "e "soanu "eiu oui a year or two lon 11 ... 11 . . uau luea IOUea ner, leaving two "ttle boys to the tender mercies of people 11 1 . r. uiemseives, me 01 tnese at once Wion 01 trie premises and con uuu P"- none? Known to 1111 ,u possessioa , deceased was nyer accounted for.The boys were sent to an orphan asylum. The successor in the business soon erected a substantial building and kept a more showy establish ment. After a few years he followed his predecessor, and by the same meaus de lirium tremens. Saloon No. 2 was kept by a young man who rapidly accumulated money. Of v three brothers, directly or indirectly con nected with him, one yielded to the power of whiskey; another left the business; the third still lingers. Delirium tremens, af ter a while, sent the principal to his final account, leaving little of his ill-gotten gain 8 for his wife and children. Saloon No. 2 did a large business, and for a time seemed prosperous. But in a few years delirium tremens closed the career of the husband. The wife kept up the businesss, took another husband, and erected the best brick building in the place. Within two years the second hus band followed the first, and a tornado wrecked the tine building. It was repaired, and the. widow, though often seen on the streetdrnnk, still held out. "Last of all, the woman died also." Her death-bed presented one of the most appalling scenes conceivable. The torments of the world of woe seemed to have kindled upon her before life was extinct. Her shrieks of agony were terific. "Snakes and devils, Oh take them off. I know they are not there; but oh, there they are snakes and devils." She liter ally tore the flesh from her limbs in her agonv of terror. So she went to her fear ful account. Tims, within about seven years, eight persons, after helping to destroy hundreds upon hundreds, fell victims to their own deadly compounds; and of their ill-got ten gains, little remained. All this in one small town. Last spring a severe gale again wrecked the brick building above named, and there was not money enough belonging to the estate to repair it. Any one passing on the railroad will notice a large building, the main part partially unroofed, the gable and windows dashed in, and the wing to tally wrei-ked. There it has stood, and there it is likely to stand. A curse rests upon it. Jors liijuor selling pay f Is not the ques tion answered by these facts? In these, as in multitudes of other cases, it paid in poverty, delirium tremens, and death. Further we cannot follow them. They sowed to the wind and reaped the whirl wind.. Yet tens of thousands are prepar ing for a similar harvest. Selected for the Watchman. There is something in the vice of intem perance wjiicn is exceptionally mean. Not only, like all other vices, is it debas ing aud evil in itself; but, having the property of flourishing in company with every other vice, its companionship sinks each one of them down to a still lower level of shame and degradation. A liar is bad enough, in all conscience; but a liar who is a drunken sot is still more detest able. A thief is very despicable, but a drunken thief is incalculably more so. And so it is all through the catalogue : every vice is made more hateful and repulsive by being linked with intemperance. Moreover, there is no other vice which so effectually extinguishes the ordinary moral virtues. A liar may be courteous, cleanly, humane, capable of faithful friend ship and ardent affection, and too honest or too proud to steal; but a drunken man never can be either of these. In his drunk en moments he is rude, unclean, brutal, prone to insult or injure friend or wife or child, and he will descend to the lowest depths of baseness and dishonesty. So again, a thief may have all those virtues which are possible with a liar, and may in addition despise lying; but the drunken man, having no capacity for any virtue and attracting to himself every vice, finds it easier to lie than to speak the truth Proverbially, no one places any reliance on his word or even upon his sworn testis mony. This is especially the case with opium eaters. It is eyeji worse with religion than with the merely moral virtues. A man has no conscience when be is drunk; his"spiritu- ality is extinguished absolutely; he cannot either fear, or love, pray, worship or adore: he is unable to see his sin, and therefore cannot be truly penitent for it or repent of it; the example, the sacrifice, and the resurrection of his Saviour can make no impression on his beastilized soul, nor M il the Holy Spirit enter that unclean dwell ing; it is impossible for the love of God to find room in his heart, and we have the inspired word of the Apostle that none j who are like him "shall inherit the king dom of God." There is another very tragical aspect of this terrible vice. It is perhaps the most difficult to conquor of all vices. No other sin stretches its roots down so deep into or intertwines its tendrils so iusiduouslv tendrils so iusiduouslv and widely with every part of our moral nature. From tbe Raleigh Obserrer. THE TELEPHONE A NORTH CARO LINA INVENTION. Like most of the wonderful inventions of modern times, the telepone is of North Carolina origin, but the inventor of it, like many other v inventors especially North Carolina inventors is not known iut connection with it. It seems to be, the fate of genius that its possessor shall nev- er enjoy the fruits of his labors. The fol- lowing letter written to one of the editors of The Observer does but tell the usual story. Dr Davis, the writer, formerly a resident of Fayetteville, now lives in Salisbury, and is well known in both places. The gentlemen to whom he refers as cognizant of his invention are also well known and of the very highest respecta bility. The following is the letter: Salisbury, April 3. Mr. P. M. Hale: Dear Sir: Believing you to be the champion of the right, I ap peal to you to take a little- trouble to do justice to a citizen of Fayetteville, with whom you are noT entirely unacquainted; and more especially as he who asks this favor at your hands is now, and has been for nearly a year past, an invalid and con fined to the house with pulmonary disease. Believing that you will willingly comply with my request, I refer you to an article in yoiy; paper of April 3d, 1877, respect ing the telephone, as it is named by Mes srs. Gray, Bell and others. I claim: to have invented this "Phonetic telegraph," as l nameu it, more man ten years ago. At that time I made drawings illustrating fully my invention but did not proceed to obtain a patent until I should have perfected the machine. I refer you to Mr. Jefferson liobiuson, of Fayetteville, to whom I described the apparatus, and also to Dr. Haigh, of the same place, i rom the latter gentleman I lorrowed, about that time, some works on Anatoiny, in order to study aud fully acquaint myself with the structure of the human ear, so as to fully understand it, in reterence to the working ot the "Pho netic Telegraph," as I then called it. I also made pen and ink drawings of the in strument which I sent to the editor of the Scientific American, with a request that they be preserved, as I wished by means of them to claim priority of invention, if my right were disputed. 1 here are many others, all gentlemen of reliability, to whom 1 can reter. My apparatus was veu more perfect than that of Messrs. Gray and Bell, inasmuch as it could write or register the sounds in a distinct lan guage, a thing they have not yet accom- mshed. My invention covers the chang ing of airvibrations into electrical, and the restoring of them again into air vibra tions or waves,: as is done by these inven tors. I have overcome some of the diffi culties which they encountered. My ap paratus is more perfect than that which they exhibit. My state of health alone uis prevented my proceeding to establish my claim, to which I can bring many wit nesses. I am somewhat surprised that those of my friends with whom I held communication, many years ago on tins subject, -should not speak out and do me that justice which should be shown an in valid ; but 1 suppose that so tew ot our citizens are m the habit of appearing in print that that Is a reason tor their si lence. Now if there is any honor connected with this discovery or invention, (it was not a discovery! with me) this honor should be assigned to that State of which the in ventor is a citizen. Is it not so ? At any rate I leave the matter in your hands, sat isfied (as I said in the first part of this communication) that it will be a pleasure tq you to do justice to one of your old fel low citizens and whose health forbids his making any esteeial exertions inhis own behalf. I am, I think, sufficiently well known to you to insure your attention to and interest in tins matter, and 1 leave it for.the present in your hands. My ad dress is Dr. James Davis, Salisbury, N. C. HON. W. L. STEELE'S LETTER ON THE POLITICAL SITUATION. "To me it is clear that duty to the coun try and to truth and honor demands that the enemies of modern Republicanism shall stand firiii and united in their efforts' to re-establish good government and con stitutional liberty. Any schism in their ra auks will only add to the mischiels which they have often denounced, and to the re- movnl of which they stand solemnly oledcred. Sueh lieing my views, I do not hesitate to say that as the Representative of the Sixth District I shall stand by the organization, and shall be ready to uphold its action in the election by the House, whether the nominees are my choice or not, and in all things else looking to the harmony of the party and the consequent interest of the country. In the event that any man elected by the Democratic party shall, contrary to my expectations, prove false to his pledges amkthe faith which was reposed hi hiui by his constituents, 1 shall be willing to hurl anathemas at him. 'whose treason, like a deadly blight,' came over the 'councils' of his party, and 'blast ed them in their hour of might.7 Tli .oiinrrv has witnessed long enoujih the use of the military to maintain politi- .... . - ml ascendency in the Southern States Such base and unconstitutional act, made the chief infamy of the late administration, notwithstanding the deceptive cry of 'Let us have peace.' With my consent thearmy rjin thus be used no longer. Sooner than see it further employed iu such unhallow ed uses. I would see the land- defenceless, so far as the regular army is concerned, feeling sure that when any real danger to the government or the people should pre sent itself, a volunteer army could easily be raised which would 'stand as a wall of fire' around its interests and its liberties. me. the liberty of the k citizen :& above oil things else, and I will do nothing1 which I think tends to infrinff noon It or ? fS" feS!.. against the nublic amwL tZZ?Zl and not harms the peace of society, and I ' can assured of such A use I will not' . Tote on!? ,do,?r AtM.nPPor' - 'In this' I hiu connuent i snail faithfully reflect Ui. voice of the people who have. trusted me, for I propose to be their servant and set their master. ' 1 "The House of RenresentattvA defend the rights of the people of this country against all assaults, byrwhomfcH ever made, whether the Ajuuinlt h mmi and manly, or secret and detestable. It must not be moved from its propriety by ' "wci muuey, unices, inreaxs or smiles. .WIIYT i ne v llmmgton Star, which Ltbora ziOTSrr to-aoTTanee. tin - prosperity drJ Xortb Carolina asks : ; ; r ny then should "an v North ftmriinbin " leave his home to seek, his fortune else-- where f Why should he go out among strangers to find that which lies at his own door t Because the Legislatures of thil State, for, lo ! these many years, seem to have studied how not to promote her interests and keep her sons and daughters at home.7 e want, what we have never had, a liberal, progressive . State policy of de velopment which looks beyond to-day and into the future ; a policy that looks to opening up and utilizing the vast resource that nature has lavished upon us. This we have never had, and until we do our people will continue "to seek their fortune in regions less favored by nature, but. more favored by fosterine lecrislation " mr 0 CJ ' That's just what's the matter." Greens boro Patriot. True only in part. We believe nine out of ten of those who leave the State do so because they expect to find a richer soil in the West, and where the labor of the farmer is better rewarded. Many go from a desire to join friends who. have preced- . ed them. Some others because they are. of a restless, discontented mind and can't be easy anywhere, especially when hard work presses them. We have known some, to go away to spite a wife's relations, and others for the purpose of breaking up social relations not agreeable to them. We hare ' never known one to leave for political reasons. FROM WASHINGTON. Special to the Richmond Dispatch. Washington, April 6. Secretary Key made a flutter among the eighty bidders for the new postal card contract, which involves a million and a half of dollars, by rejecting all bids and ordering a re-advertisement for proposals. The Post-Office Department had decided to have a style of cards that could only be manufactured by one firm in the whole' country, because no other firm pos sessed the peculiar machinery necessary. These new cards, as proposed, were to be made of pulp of two colors, so combined that the card should be homogeneous throughout, yet show a green surface upon: one side and a buff upon the other; and this. result must Ik? reached without coloring the cards after manufacture. When the day came for the bides to b opened some of the bidders explained to the Secretary the advantage, amounting almost to an exclusion of competition,' that was given to aTirm tn New England, and Mr. Key rejected all bids without even opening any except those that arriv ed by mail. HOW A PIG BECAME A HORSE. A lady, who has several grown sons and daughters, told me That when her first born boy was a very young baby a gentle man gave him half a dollar. She told her husband that she' would, with that, pro vide the little fellow a horse to ride by the time he was twenty-one years of age. , With the half dollar she bought a pig. She fed the pig with such scraps, ect., from the kitchen as would otherwise bar been thrown away, for she had 'determine ed that her husband should not incur any expense in the. plan which she had adopt ed to get the horse. In about twelve months, when the pig had become large enough to fattened for pork, she bought eight bushels of corn, promising the neigh - bor of whom she taught it that she would pay him when she had killed and sold the hog. So, in a few months, the animal had reachad such a size that he brought about fourteeu dollars. . .. y With part of this fourteen dollars she bought a calf, using the balance of the money to pay her husband all expenses of keeping the calf, except the grass which it ate in the fields. " . , In the course of two or three years the calf had grown so well that it brought thirty-five dollars. This amount, after paying all expense not heretofore paid, was quite sufficient fur the purchase of a colt, almost readj to be put under the saddle ; and by the time her little boy was six, years old his horse was ready for him, but he was not quite large enough to take a ride. Some of our young readers can act on, this hint for themselves. A ten-year-old farmer-boy may, if he will, turn a pigor something else, telhaps a lamb,) iuio horse before he is seventeen. I vuth's Companion. With
April 19, 1877, edition 1
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