Newspapers / The Albemarle Enquirer (Murfreesboro, … / Sept. 19, 1878, edition 1 / Page 1
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"VOL. III. I ! , ."j MURFREESBOKO N. C , THURSDAY. SEPTEMBER 19.1878 i . Ivn SU BSCRIPTION (IN AOVANCX.) One Year... six Months...... .VLB . 1.00 single copies, lire cento each. jr Any person sending- a club of live snt! hcrlbers, accompanied by the casn, vrtU recelTB one eoDy free ror one year. ADVERTISING RATES: SPACK. i w.ia w, l m. m. i s m. m. in 1 Incn.. $150 $400 8 00 '8 00 10 00 20 00 30 00 40 00 $ 600 800 too 112 00 $1300 18 00 li Inches i oo sou 4 00 5,00 10 00 15 00 300 400 6 00 TOO 15 00 iO 00 OV i Inches 400 500 6 00 14 00 20 0C IS 00 14 00 25 00 85 00 50 00 IT 00 20 00 85 00 45 90 70 00 24 00 30 00 50 00 4 Inches coL.. CoL 1 Col... TO! 125 CO 00 I Transient advertisements parable In! sulvance Yearly advertisements payaDle quarterly in ad vance. : I r I'rofesslonal Cards, six lines or lesa, $10 peir annum half yearly In advance (Including paper;. . I For the publication of Court notices $7 la charged, if paid in advance otherwteei $3. 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Manusc rlpts Intended for publication ! : must be written on one siue or tne paper only and act- e.jmpanled by the name of the writer as a guairj- antee or good taitn. ill uscnpt. , i "ft: Important to Advertiser W The MURFRETC8BORO ENQUIRER Is th oflicial organ of Hertford and Northampton! counties, and has a larger circulation in Bertlel Northampton, Hertford and Gates counties than any Daper published, it also circulates In thirty other counties, and as an ADVE$.TISINOf MEDIUM is second to no paper In Eastern Caro4 una. . 1 XA cross mark on your paper "T indicates that yuur subscription hasA i.red. or is "due. We deman prompt ua ments, as we need what is due us to enable U3 to carry on our business more successfuli Tl Fromises.are worthless unless fulfilled.! A sutw acriptlon is a small amount to a subscriber, but put together, they are considerable toj us. please remit. JOB PRINTING i . , i i ! of all kinds done in the best styles, and at fig- ures to suit the times. STATIONERY. CARDS, SNVELOPES, BILL HEADS, LETTER HEADS,! &cn tarnished at the shortest notice, orders to the Address all ENQUIRES MurfreesboroL N. C. Professional Cards. C. BOWE2f, ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, Jackson, jN. C. rractices in Northampton andaojolnlflgcounr ties. Prompt attention to collection In all parts vi me Mate. E. C. WARD, ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, Hurfreesboroi N.C. Practices in Hertford and adjoining counties, tuia m me supreme ana jreaerai courts. Prompt attention to collections, - j j. tea, - .., . - ; J. TEATES, - 1 ... ATTORNBY-AT-LAW, MuTfreesboroi N. C, Practices in the Superior, Supreme and 7e4 tjjiu courts. D. A" BAIlJfES I A. BARNES, ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, i - ;MuTfreesbord, N. C Practices in Hertford and adjoining counties ana in the Supreme and Federal courts. Prompt attention to collection. T. R JER3f IUAN ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, HarrellsTille, 2f . O. Collections made In any part of the State. 1 JOHN W. 1IOOBE, ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, Pitch Landing, N. C. Practices In the Superior, Supreme, and Fed ral Courts. , ..'vi,..., Prompt attention to Collections. BR. win borne, j winbohxev attorney-at-law, Wlntoa, N. a Practlces In Hertford ahd adjoining countlesi i I collections made In any part of North Caro- 1 Una. any part C. F. CAMPBELL, o H 2 H H H .w H ft 09 MURPREESBORO. N. CI -TAKIKG TOLL. A country road o'er hill and. plain; A rustic bridge, in distanoeseen, Spanning a stream whose silent flow I)ivides broad fields and meadows green. A still and cool September night, lit by. a t nil-orbed harvest moon, ; Whose silver radiance; soft and white, - O'er stream and bridge and hill is thrown. Our carriage, drawn by sleepy steeds, Slow down the hill and o'er the green, Its course pursues , till near the bridge We pause to view the peaceful scene. To the sweet maiden byjny side, " , A lover fond and true I're proved, But, till this hour, the prudent fair ( Has given no sign that I am loved. , Ah, softly sighing, blushing warm. She rests, a dear load, on my breast ; My arms enfold her slender form. In close embrace, long, sweet and blest. We near the bridge our hearts beat high. , With love's first, fondest, deepest bliss; Just as we cross the sounding planks Our lips unite in. one fond kiss; Our horses quickly turn the ridge, Beyond our wheels more swiftly roll, And as she glances toward the bridge. My maiden whispers, "taking toll?" ' f "Darling," I cry, a joy like this Repays whole months of toil and pain, And hope and fear." She, smiling, says : "Then, love, let's cross the bridge again!" Not Fond of Dress . Many years ago, in a quiet town, where I often had occasion to visit, met a quaint specimen of humanity in the form of an uncle's second wife When I became old enough to notice her peculiarities, I was curious enough to question my mother on the subject. She wore plain dresses, a long, straight anron. ana no i conar. rier nair - was X M drawn as plainly as possible. She had dark skin, coarse features, and I also thought her a ! very disagreeable per son, lor she was constantly scolding the children. i My curiosity was more than usually excited after one event in particular. for she had companv. and I noticed that she used remarkably good language which to me ?id not seem to correspon with her general appearance. . When arrived home I asked mv mother wha kind of a woman Aunt Anna was. "Why ?" said she. "Why, sh6 puzzles me so. She dresses so ridiculously, and yet she seems to know how to be a lady." "Yes, she does," said my mother. 'But I do not think that she takes the right course. 'Why, what is the matter with her?' said I. j "She has never told me her history; I have heard that she was once a teach- er, ana tnat sne now nas a cnest oi nne clothes put away which she never uses." "Why, mother, then I know she has had some great trouble, and if I was not afraid of her, I would ask her to tell me her historyl" "I hardly think she would tell you, for she is very reticent." "To every one, mother, except Cou sin Mary. She seems to like her better than anyone else ; now don't you be lieve that if Mary and I should tease her that she would tell us about herself?" "Perhaps she -would. I think she likes you both. I have heard her ; say so," said mother. "Sometime, then, when Mary and I are both there, I am going to get Mary tn ask hftr. i It will do no harm, will it mother,.. !.:..) . , 'No, I think not. When your un cle's wife died, he was left with four small children, and hisfather and mo ther were quite old. As he had the charge of them and the farm, he felt under! the necessity of supplying her place as soon as possible. He visited some trie nas m a aistanc town, anq while there engaged himself to a lady of superior education, it was said, and in six months from the time his wite ttA Vi o xxraa marnpn. YOlir ffrand- mother did not like this at first; she thought her proud. But she seemed to treat her kindly, and she got over her dislike in a measure, yet she was never very well pleased with her. I have often been there and found her crying, and when I asked her the trouble, she only said 'Anna has such work with the children,' and she was so" ignorant about housework, that things were in a constant broil all the time." At the time Jour story commences aunt had been there several years, and haa three cnnaren oi ner own. iaost oi uncle's children were away. Her rhilrlrin wftr ami ev. unrulv. and ne- trft,A t thnno-ht " giectea, l tnougnt. The washjng for the family .was aone generally by herself, but the clothes, when dry, were brought in and piled, without folding or ironing, and there lay until needed for use. " She scolded most of the time, except when the children were, asleep; then she would seat herself by the fire-place with her pipe in her mouth, her elbows upon her knees, and in this position she appeared to be thinking. I asked her one evening what made It I told her I should think that poor comfort. wa3 "Oh, well," she said, "if you knew you would not wonder. ", uncie, l noticed, had very little to ,say. l thought him the . most unsocial man.l ever met. : Perhaps he was not naturally so, but I scarcely dared to speak to him. The next time that I visited my grand parents, I found Cousin Mary there, and asked her if she ever heard Aunt Anna's-historr. i ; "JSo," she said, "but I have , been ready this long time to ask her to tell me. "Well, Mary, after she gets the chil dren off to bed to-night, let's go in and ask her. I have noticed that she is more willing to talk at such times." "Well, we will," said Mary. Aunt had had an unusually hard day's work, and she was cross, but we determined to try her. We waited un til all was still, then went and seated ourselves in the kitchen, determined to win her favor if possible, though our hearts beat in fear and doubt. At last Mary Ventured to say, "Aunt I believe you have had trouble pome time in your life, haven't you?" ! "Yes. Is that any of your business? That was not very encouraging to two impatient girls, we thought, bat we didn't like to give up so, and I said, "Aunt, I am sorry you are so tired : I wanted you to tell us a story." 'A story ! what do I care for stories. I want to rest." "Well, will you tell us one to-morrow night if we will help you about your work, so that you will not be tired?" I said. ,. .' ! ' "Why yes, if I can find one that will suit you," said she. "Well, you can, for we only want the story of vour own life," said I. "That is the hardest story of all to tell, but in hopes that it may do you girls some good, perhaps I may consent to do so. You will be the first ones tr V r fioira ntrav lna tI ma nllnrla r i f- 9? " V 1A H V! W tlVCIlU AAA V CI A A UlAv lit We went into the kitchen the next morning, and helped her bake, and took the clothes from the drawer and ironed them, and cleaned up things as much as we dared to, and 1 Know she appre ciated it, for 1 never saw her look so happy before, and she said "It does seem more home-like to see things neat and clean, but 1 always think there is no use. I get so discouraged ; I never have a kind word, and no one seems to know whether I do well or ill. But perhaps, if I had some one around hie who was cheerlul, I might throw off a part of this feeling of loneliness." Evening came. The children were asleep, uncle was in grandpa's room, as usual, and we all sat down by the fire place, ready for the story. "Come, Aunty, you have had all day to think how to begin, and we are all ready to listen," said I. "Well, girls," she began, "I have no doubt but that you think it very strange that I dress as I do, and that I smoke ; perhaps I have no excuse, but to my story. "My parents were wealthy and aris tocratic, and I was not brought up to work, but having an abundance or en ergy, l thought 1 shouia nice teaching. "There was a vacancy in a seminary a few miles distant. "I applied for the situation, and ob tained it. For several years I kept the position. While there I made the ac quaintance of one of the professors,and in due time became very much attached tohira. "We wore very hapDV, as those who are in perfect sympatny always are, arrowing more and more Intimate as time passed, i 'Two happy years went by, when he was called away to a distant city, to at tend to his father's affairs, he being in poor health.. He came to me and told me that we must part; that he must go home, perhaps not to return to the school. "I was very sad. How could I live without him?J He told me anew of his love, and that he should so arrange matters that he could, ere long, come for me, and I should be all his own. "He promised to write tf ten, and en treated me not to forget him in his lone liness ; that my letters would be the only sunshine in his pathway. . "He left me, and I felt that all was blank; teaching had lost its charms with me, when lie was not there. I received two loving letters from him, then they grew cooler, and finally ceased altogether. What did it mean ? "1 knew that another; man was try ing hard to win j my affections, but I paid little heed. . He then told me that I j was in love with another man. and that was the reason he could not win my regard, and I told him It was true. He then said it was little use for me to care for that person. I did not understand him, and was too angry to inquire his meaning. "Yet I did not mistrust him at the time, though I didLnot like his persist- I ence. l learnea alter waras mat ue uuu. i her take so much tea, and she said, is all the comfort I have' written annonymous letters to my lov er, telling him that I did not care for him, and was in the habit of receiving the attentions of other gentlemen. 'Had I known this at the time, I could have righted matters, but I was proud, very proud. ,1 thought he had no right to doubt me, and I could not believe that he had any good reasons for treating me in such a manner, so I wrote to him telling him that if it was such a task for him to correspond with me, I wod excuse him. "Soofi after I heard that he was mar riedr S - "My health failed, vacation came, and I went home. My parents thought my Jabors in school were too hard for me, and they insisted upon me leaving the seminary, which I did. I avoided so ciety, and my parents sent me into the country for my health. "A beautiful place among the hills was selected, where I spent the sum mer, .but I was far from happy ; and while there made a rash promise to my self I was then thirty years old that I would marry the first one who of fered himself, and have something to take my attention. "While there I met a widower in search of a wife. Widowers generally let their wants be known., I was re commended to him, and he visited me. I did not like nor dislike him, and when- he asked me to marry him I said 'Yes.' "I had three weeks to get ready. I hardly knew what I was doing, and was very unhappy. I had the impres sion on my mind that there was some thing wrong that possibly the rumor in regard to Thomas was untrue. "The time came ; we were married in church. During the ceremyI looked about, and encountered the gaze of my old lover. He was as white as a sheet. I nearly fell. But I summoned my pride to my aid, and the deed was done. "We started immediately for his home, and, oh I such a home ! you see it now 'twas just like this but I am used to it now. "I learned after my marriage that Thomas was not married, but had heard that I was, and stopped writing. My new home and the knowledge of the mistake I had made were too much for me, and for weeks I was prostrated with fever, and could do nothing but cryi Remember, girls, I had no experience in nouseKeeping. nis Kiccnen was my home, where I must cook, eat, and sit, and I had four children to care for. Yes, I had found employment to be 1 sure, enough to arown my trouD e. Where should I begin? "When I got well everything was in disorder. The children and husband had done the work. The oldest girl knew something about cooking I must iearn of her. - She soon grew to be saucy to me because I did not do things as her mother did, and I became discouraged ; I had gotten myself into a bad place and must make the best of it, learning to do all kinds of house work. "I got some cloth and made me some clothes suitable for my surroundings. It was hard for me at first to lay away my fine clothes, but what use were they here? "They thought me proud,they should think so no longer. I had no one to hear my complaints, so I plodded along. My health was no good, and after I had two children I learned to drink too much tea. My husband, though not unkind, was no company for me. So I love my teapot. The oldest girl grew so disagreeable her. father sent her away. "Yes, it is true I have a box of clo thing packed away. To-morrow I will open it for you ; it has not been opened for ten years. 'Xow, girls, my advice to . you Is don't marry without love ! It has de stroyed my life. Do not let your pride get the mastery over you. Be humble, and patiently await the result. Had I note been so rash, two lives would have been made happy." My aunt dropped her head and said, ('(2nnr n i cr h t cri rl a that ia all." Different Kings of Church. Goers. 1. Regular members, standbys, who always may be depended on. 2. Shaky members, who act according to feeling rather than principle. 2. Families whose women are mem bers, but whose men rarely attend, and care only for the social and respectable aspect of the church. 4. Families moral but not religious; regular attendants but not members. 5. "New families, occasional attend ants, whom it is desirable to interest and fasten. " , 6. Poor families whose willingness Is greater than their ability. - 7. Floaters. There are enough houses In Wash ington to accommodate lw.uw people. and only two thirds of that number to put In them. The plum crop in Ohio this season promises to be quite large probably wou 9.vvtvw. Master Boll finch from Germany. - The German bullfinch is the most be witching little pet In the world and more human, almost, than one imagines that a bird could be ! as may be infer red from the following, fascinating traits which are- now - delighting the owner of one of them 'in Boston. Jle is &f stylish little fellow, with t gray plumage, a red breast, black tips to his wings, and a black capon his head, and he was brought up and trained by a white-haired old" German. The young lady's father has white hair, and the bird is fonder of him than of any one. When he is pleased, or when any of his favorites come near him, he manifests it by puffing up all his feathers until he looks like a perfect ball, but when he Is angry he shakes himself, and scolds in a funny little "squawk" that is infi nitely diverting. He is very fond of his young mistress, but less so than he is pf his master, and he has one trick, that of making a bow and glylhg the Utile squawk for "good morning," that he will only do for him; The young lady's mother is an invalid, and spends much of her time humoring the whims of Master Bullfinch, whom she adores. The bird takes her admiration and de votion as the lordly sex is very apt to do in apparent indifference aDd lofty superciliousness; but since - the lady is away he misses his elave, and shows how bored he Is by scolding all the time, this fact of her being so indis pensable to him consoles . her j for the ungraciousness of her little tyrant, as it dpes so many of her sex for hat of their greater ones, and mak3 her keep on spoiling him. j Bullfinches do not sing they whis tle; and this one of course, as an! accom plished bullfinch should, whistles very prettily the tune that he was trained into. But sometimes he gets off the key and then his disgust at himself is immense. He squawks and shakes himself vigor ously, and finally begins again very slowly to practice the wayward passage over and over again until he has got it right, when he starts of glibly from the beginning and whistles 1 . A jm , A It clear tiifougn witnout iauic. The youthful mistress of this charm- mg bird, who is a remarkably hand nas a some and engaging brunette. young ladv friend who often calls in to spend an hour or two with her. From the moment the bullfinch first saw this maiden he took a violent fancy to her and showed his preference for her ovr everybody but his whitehaired master in an unmistakeable manner. He will not whistle when she Is I in the room, but looks at her fixedly, keeping himself ruffled, in a btll all the time. When other people feed him with seeds he runs to the ( wires, impaiently snatches the seed, and snaps at jthe person, but when she, offers him one he advances as quietly as possible and takes it gently off her fingers, his irritability quite subdued. He manifests tne same sausiacuon every time sne comes and the only explanation the family can give is white haired owner that his original must nave naa a daughter with yellow hair like that of the young, lady and that in specially singling her out, along with his master, for ing Ihfs favorites,he Is in reality remain- faithful to his earliest associations. Affected Deafness. A stranger dismounted at the door of the! River" Hotel, and gave his hbrse to the officious waiter. The barkeeper, opened the register to take his name. ! " You are right;' 1 said' he, " a single room would be more agreeable," arid he walked into the supper room to which the crowd of boarders were passing. The barkeeper ran after him, 'screaming in 118 ear : r ( , ' j What name did you say?" i " Thank you," said he, " I can find the way ; don't give yourself any trouble." On his return to the barroom a waiter took up his saddle bags and told the deaf stranger he would show him to his chamber. ?..' 'j'My friend, who will spend the even ing with me, prefers pale cherry, lf said hej " You may send up a bottle and a 'few cigars.", . , r. ',' I did not," said the barkeeper; ''ex actly understand your name.", j " I think a little ice would improve the wine," was the answer ' And now I think of it, you may put the bottle In a wine cooler.", , V, j i v ills friend now Joined him, and they walked to his room together. The deaf lodger patronized the house to the ex tent of another bottle before he slept; The waiter who brought It up ventured once more to inquire his name, j " Nothing more,"sald he, "except a slice of cold ham, a pickle and a! little bread and cheese? The next morning, after breakfast, when the stranger's horse was at the door he asked for his bill. He was told it was six dollars and three quarters. "5Tou are very kind' said -he; " I had expected to pay you ; but if this is your cus torn, to charge nothing for the first visit, you shall lose nothing by it all my friends In Sponge ville will cer- tertainly give you at least one call when . -a 1 1 . I' I I-- .i .- tt j i iiiey come into tne city. , viood roorn- T thank you to pay your bill, , go," ! screamed the bar before yon I keeper. T m .L ..i in.. gentleman! j'; I caii put them bn.'.. '. 'Andfhe'tqok'up jthe saddlebags amL departed. As he mounted the by-stand ers begin to laugh' immoderately at .thet awkward embarrassment which aflicted the barkeeper, who I was in anguish and despklrj while he bawled after the delinquent,! who continued bowing and repeating the assurance that he would certaiijiH riemember the" accommda tions,cjlvjlity and liberality of the house, and recommend It to all his friends who might bates through the city. The gen tlemanT nq so. w ii affected deafness ad staked on the sue- won the cess of th agerhej s scheme. and paid his bill the next tim4 he vlsitel the city. A Brav Sheep. Toby, he sheenl hated the whole canine race, and his pe walk on the dnla day when the captain were! taking their usual promenade there came on shore the skipper of a Falmouth ship, accompanied! by a y jry large formidable looking d?g.j And .he dog truly resem sembled ti Is tria8tei as you observe dogs usually co. As soon as he saw Toby he commc need to 8t his dog upon him; but Toby had seen hlra coming and was quite en ghrd so a long and fierce battle ensued in Which SToby was slightly wounded and the dog's head was severely iut. Quite a multitude had assembled toi witnesjs the light, and the ship's raggings (werjj alive with sailors;' At onei.tim,ttnej brutal owner of the dog, seeing his pet getting worsted, at tempted! to assist hlra; but the crowd would have pitched! him neck and crop into the river had he not desisted. At last both dogand sheep were exhausted ; and drew off as The doe seated If by mutual consent. himself close to the outer edge of the platform, which was about three fleet higher than the river's bank, and Toby wept, as he was wont to do and stood between his master's legs, resting i hi s Head fondly on the captain's kaped patnds, but never took his eyes on the foe.! Just then a dog on board one; of jthe ships happened to bark and the Ifalmouth dog looked around. This was Toby's chance and he did not miss It j or his enemy either. He was upon himr II i a bolt from a catapult. One furious blow j knocked the dog off the platform, next, moment Toby had leaped jon tojp of jhfm and was chasing the yelling animal toward bis own ship. There is po doubt Toby would have crossed the plank and followed him on board, had not his feet slipped and pre cipitated mm Into! the river. A few, minutes1 afterward, when Toby, drfplne with wet look for h rejourned to. the platform to , :s master, he was greeted with ringing cheers;! ahd many, was the piastre sdent In! treating our woolly, friend to fruit, i Toby was the hero of Galatz from that hour ; but the Falmouth' dog never ventured Ion shore again, and his mas tec as seldom as possible." , Wouldn't UeUere Ulm. 4 curidus anecdote was told Some years ago aoout oneof the cnler officials of the Jiondon general post office who holds the- highest rank among our wrl- ters or Action. massing from his room at the pos ; office through an open (loor, he disti n tly saw, ja letter sorter ab-I stract a sovereign from a letter and put; it into t ig pocket,- - The man was given Into, custody j pommitted to prison, and ' brought to trial., i The only witness was the geniJemain who saw the Hheft com'" mitted. At the dole of the examlna-1 tlon ! for tile prosecution, the counsel for" the prisoner thus 1 addressed the wit ness r J .,. il'i-H'' .-. ";; "I belienre uir besides holding an ap pointment in the post office, you are a popular author?" j- . The reply was in the affirmative. 1 , "Pray, i dr,j what may be the class of ; books you write?'.' J . '. ",jf ... - - ' Work&bf imagination. . "Works of imagination, flctIon,Hes?" "Pray, sir, howlong is It 'since you first begaiji tc gain your livelihood In part by suchan occupation?"" ' . "Kine jjeas."-i :J- u ' l' :: " 'f Your mother, I believe, was also an ; author, ard wrote similar books May I ask how many ye4rs she gained a live lihood by doing so?1" : "Twentjy. ; : Then, turning to the jury; the coun sel said : , j : r- ".. .''Gentlesmen; 'l am- sure no British i jurywill jcoqvict thp prisoner upon the.; unsupported evidence of a person -who , pomes here ajnd tells you that he has for nine yuafs1 gained a great part of his livelihood by .tellihg iies and that his mother before him followed the same : calling fo: twenty years." .. Notwltl standing the judge's sum-, mlng un. ;hoj petit lury acquitted the neither of them . probably having- heard ot the ' great novelist's name tl box. T appeared in the" witness Italian chloral in physicians give a solution of glycerine for diphtheria, ;
The Albemarle Enquirer (Murfreesboro, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
Sept. 19, 1878, edition 1
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