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J I . i ; , . .. i ",'! " " f !'.! !: ' i'V ' ; ; W 1 TiW .lie TV E. L. 0. WAED, Editor and Proprietor. The O rgaii of tlie Roanolco and. Albemarle Sections. ' TEBHS $2.00 Per Year, in Advance. VOL. III. MURFREESBORO N. C., THUESDAY. OCTOBER 10. 1878. WW j NO. 50. I- y SUBSCRIPTION (IN ADVANCE.) one Tear m ...2 00 ... 1 10 tlx Months , S.ngle Copies, rive Cents each. rfAny person sending: , club of nvesub ca&h, 'will receive fccribers, accompanied toy tne one copy free for one year. ADVERTISING RATES: EFACK. l w.12 vr.li m. 8 m. 0 m. X 7. 1 Inch.. 2 Inchea 3 Inches 4 Inches X col.... CoL. 1 Col.... It 00 (150 $2 50 4 00 6 00 800 10 00 80 00 SO 00 40 0V t 500 8 00 IS 00 14 00 25 00 $18 00 18 00 24 00 30 00 50 00 70 00 125 00 8 00 800 400 500 3 00 400 500 800 14 00 20 00 400 600 TOO 15 00 10 00 15 00 20 Oo JO 00 35 00 50 00 Transient advertisements payable in advance. Yearly advertisements payable quarterly in ad vance, i i Professional Cards, six lines or less. $10 per annum naif yearly In advance (including paper). I For the publication of Cburt notices $7 Is charged, If paid In advance otherwise. $3. Advertisers may, by counting ten words to a line, and adding the number of display lines they wish, estimate for themselves the length and cost of an advertisement, and remit accord ingly. Remittances may be made by check, araft, or registered letter, j communications containing Items of local news are respectfully solicited. The Editor will not be held responsible for news entertained and expressed by correspon dents. Manuscripts Intended for publication must be written on one side of the paper only and ac companied by the name of the writer as a guar, antee of rood faith. We cannot undertake to return rejected man uscript. Important to Advertisers. tW The ALBEMARLE ! ENQUIRER Is the official organ of Hertford; and Northampton counties, and has a larger circulation In Bertie, Northampton, Hertford and, Gates c6untles than any paper published. Itj also circulates in thirty-seven other counties, and as an AD- vifinTiMNU medium la second to no paper In TT A cross mark on your paper X indicates that yur subscription has exmred. or Is due. We demand prompt unj ments, as we need what Is due us to enable U3 to carry on our business more successfully. Promises are worthless unless fulfilled. ' A sub- scriDtlon Is a small amount put together, they are considerable to us. please remit. JOB PRINTING of all kinds done In the best styles, and at fig ures to suit the times. STATIONERY, CARDS, ENVELOPES, ! ' ' " BILL HEADS, . LETTER HEADS, notice. Address all Furnished at the shortest orders to the ENQUIRER, Murfreesboro, N. a 3 Professional Cards. C. BOW EX, ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, Jackson, N. C. Practices In Northampton and adjoining coun ties. Prompt attention to collection In all parts oi tne btate. I. C. HARD, ATTORNEY AT- LAW, Murfreesboro, N. C. Practices In Hertford and adjoining counties, $700 12 00 17 00 2$ 00 85 00 45 00 70 00 and in the Mipreme and Federal courts. Prompt attention to collections, JJ. YEATES, I ; ' r ATTORNBY4AT-LAW, i I Murfreesboro, N. C, Practices in the Superior, Supreme and Fed- era! courts. j T-V A. BARNES, I j ATTOKNEX-AT-LAW, Mu-Treesboro, N. C. -. i - ... Practices In Hertford and adjoining countiet and in the Supreme and Federal courts. Prompt attention to collection, j T. . JEBNIUAir, ATTORNEY AT-LAW. 6 '. ' , Harrellsvllle, N. 0. Collections made In any part of the State. ( 1 JOHN W. MOORE, Pitch Landing, N. C. ' Practices in the superior. Supreme, and Fed eral courts. I : . ! Prompt attention to Collections. T B. WIN BORNE, ATTOKNKT' AT-LAW, Winton, N. C Practices In Hertford and adjoining counties. Collections made in any part of North Caro- una. It. C. F. CAMPBELL 01 H H 99 H MURFiJEESBORO. N. O. AGE AND SONG. In rain men tell lis time can alter Old loves or make old memories falter. That with the old year the old year's life closes. The old dew still falls on the old sweet flow . . era, ' The old sun revives the new-fledged hours, The old summer rears the new-born roses. Much more a Muse that bears upon her Raiment and wealth and flower of honor, Gathered long since and long since woven, Fades not or falls as fall the vernal i Blossoms that bear no fruit eternal, By summer or winter charred or cloven. No time casts down , no time upraises, Such loves , such memories, and such praises, As need no grace or sun or shower, No saving screen from frost or thunder, To tend and house around and under The imperishable and peerless flower. Old thanks, old thoughts, old aspirations, Outlive men's lives and lives of nations. Dead, but for one thing which survives The inalienable and unpriced treasure, "The old joy of power, the old pride of plea sure. That lives in light above men's lives. A Wife's Confession I did not marry for love. Very few people do, so in this respect I am neith er better nor worse than my neighbors. No, I certainly did not marry for love; 1 believe I married Mr. Cartwright sim ply because he asked me. This was how it happened. He was the rector of Dovetdn, and we lived at the Manor House, which was about ten minutes walk from the church and rec tory J We had daily service at Dovetpn, and I nearly always attended it, and it came to pass that Mr. Cartwright in variably walked home with me. It was a matter, of custom now, and I thought nothing of it; it pleased him, and on the whole it was rather pleasant to me also. I must confess, however, I was rather surprised when, one. morning, as we got to the avenue which! Jed up to the Manor House, Mr. Cartwright asked me to be hisNvife. : I have never been able to tiud out why I said "Yes," but I did; perhaps I thought it a pity to throw away so much love; perhaps it was because he was so terribly in earnest that I dared not refuse ; perhaps I feared his pale face, ai.d his low, pleading voice would ever haunt me if I rejected his love ; or, per haps, it was because he only asked me to marry him he did not ask me if I lovedhim, for I think he guessed I did not; perhaps it was all these reasons put together, but anyhow I said yes, and in due time we were married. I ought to have been very happy,for he was a most devoted husband, but I was not. and though I did not notice it then I know now that for the first six months after our marriage he wa3 not happy either. It was all my fault I either would not or could not love him; I accepted all his devotion to me as a matter of course, but I made no effort to ; return it, and 1 am sure he found out that he had made a mistake in marrying a woman who did not love him. . One morning, about six months after our marriage, he told me at breakfast that he intended leaving me alone for a few weeks, to stay with his, mother, who was not very well. He watched the effect of this announcement on me, but though I was really displeased,1 I concealed my annoyance, and asked carelessly when he would start.; j He replied the next diy, if I had no objection, and so it was settled. y He was more affectionate than usual that day, and I was colder than ever ; 1 only once alluded to his journev, and that was to ask if I might have my sis ter Maud to stay while he was gone. . The next morning Iwas anxious ;to avoid a formal parting, so I .drove to the: station .with him. As the train moved off, I remembered this was our first parting since our marriage, and I wished 1 had not been so cold. When I got home the house looked dreary and empty and there was no one to meet me; presently one of the ser vants came for the shawls and with her Nero, Mr.Cartwright'8 retriever, which when he saw I was alone, set up a howl for. his master. I patted him and tried to comfort himy feeling rebuked by his grieff as he followed me, whining, into the house. Every room seemed empty, and each spoke of the absent master. At last 1 wandered into his study, where he spent his mornings and liked me to sit and work ; and now I remembered how often I had excused myself, saying I preferred the drawing-room and this reflection did not add to my happiness. There was a photograph of me stand ing on his writing table, and another orij the chimney-piece; on the walls hung two or three of my drawings, which he had begged of me when we were engaged ; indeed the room was full of; little remembrances of : me; I opened a book I had given ; and in it was his name m my handwriting,' and underneath in his own, "From my darling wife." I laid it down with a j sigh, as I thought how carefully he treasured everything I had ever giren him, and how little care I took of ' all his gifts to me. v Everything I attempted, everything I looked at reminded me of his goodnpss to me and of my coldness and ingrati tude to hini. At last I went to bed, where ,af ter working myself into a fever of anxiety lest he should not hare reached the end of his journey in safety I at length cried myself to sleep. v The next morning I went down' lto breakfast ' with a heavy heart, for T knew I could not hear from him till the next day; it seemed so strange to break fast alone, and Nero appeared to think so, too, for he was most unhappy, snif fing round his master's chair in the most melancholy manner. My plate for the first time since my marriage, was empty, as I sat down to breakfast, for my husband, who was an early riser, alwajs had a little bouquet to greet me with every morning ; fre quently I forgot about it, and left it to be put into water by the servant ; this morning I would have treasured it most carefully if he had gathered it. After breakfast I determined to rouse myself and go and visit some of the people in the village, so I filled my basket with some little delicacies for the sick and set out. Wherever I went it was the same story, all held forth on my hus band's goodness and kindness, for all had been helped by him in some way or other, and all loved and respected him. As I listened with burning cheeks I felt as if I w as the only person on earth who had treated him with cruel ingra titude, and I was the very person whom he most loved and cherished. At last I went home, tired antf sick at heart ; but there was no one to notice I was pale and worn-out, no one to get me wine or soup to revive me. no one to make me lie down and rest, as he vould have done had he been there. Oh, how I missed him? What a fool I had been ! Was there ever .woman loved and cared for as I had been"? Was there ever friend so ungrateful ? Oh ! why had I ever let him leave me? I was sure he would never come back. Why had he gone away? ' ' And conscience answered, "You drove him , he gave you all he had to give, and in return you gave him noth ing but cold looks and unkind words; and s he left you to seek love and sym pathy from his mother." This thought almost maddened me. In fancy I saw her sitting in my place by his side, loving and caressing him, as I had the best right to love and caress him. I pictured her receiving tenderly the iittle loving acts I had received so coldly, and now I was seized with a jealous anger against her. I mentally accused her of estranging my husband from me, and of trying to win his love from me, as though his heart was not large enough for both of us. , When Maud arrived in the afternoon, I treated hereto a long tirade of abuse against mothers-in-law in general and my own in particular, and I vented all the anger I really felt against myself on the innocent Mrs. Cartwright. "Why, Nelly," said Maud,"I thought you liked Mrs. Cartwright so much, and thought her so nice, that you even! wanted her to live with you, only your husband, very properly, as mama saysj objected," ' "So I did," I answered; "but I did not know then she would ever entice my husband away from me in this way! or, of course, I should never have liked her." "Really, Nell, you are very hard on the poor women; for, as I understand, Mr Cartwright went to her of his own free will, because she was not well, and. he thought his company would do her good," said Maud. "Nonsense ; I am sure he would never have left me alone, unless she had put him up to it," I replied, rather crossly. "The truth is, Nelly, you are so much in love with your husband that you are jealous even of his mother; and you are making yourself miserable about noth ing.1 Why, Mr, Cartwright will be back in a fortnight, and I dare say you wiH get a letter from him every day ; so cheer up, and let us go for a drive, said Maud. 1 agreed to this plan, and giving Maud the reins, I lay back and thought of her words. Was she right after all? Was I jealous? Was I really, as Maud said, in love with my husband? Had I only found it out now I was deprived of his company ? Was this the reason I could do nothing but" inwardly reproach my self for my conduct to him ? And the longer I thought, the more convinced I became that Maud was right, that I was jealous and that I wad in love, as she called it. This knowledge did not make me happier, for I no sooner knew I loved him than I longed to tell him so, and make up, as far as. I could, for all my former cruelty, for I could call my con duct by no milder word. ; I passed a sleepless night, and as'I lay awake I composed various letters of confession; which I resolved to send the following day ; but when morning came, my pride stepped in, and I began to feel, it would be impossible to write, and I , settled I must wait till my husband came home and then tell him how his absence had altered me. ' I got up early and walked out to meet the postman, so anxious was I to get a letter from him ; it was the first I had ever received from, him since our mar riage, and no girl was ever so anxious for or so pleased with her first love-let-tei'i3 1 was over this. ' ! ! messages and terms of endearment, all of which cut me to the heart, for they sounded like so many reproaches; in reality, I think there was a tone of gen tle reproach throughout the letter. He gave me an account of his journey and Df his mother's health, begged me to write to him a few lines every day, but he said not a word about returning. I spent the morning in answering it, much to Maud's amusement, who, of course, thought I was pouring out volumes of love and complaints of my temporary widowhood; after tearing up about a dozen sheets of paper, I at last sent a short note, cool and with no allusions to my misery. The more I tried, the more impossible I found it to write any expression of love or peni tence, though I was hungering to do so. For a whole week I went on in j this way, suffering more acutely every day, and every day receiving long, loving letters from Mr. Cartwright, and writ ing short, cold answers. i j I lost my appetite ; I could not sleep at night; and the torture I was endur ing made me look so ill that Maud be came frightened, and declared she would write and summon my husband home, and tell him I was pining away for him. I forbade her doing this, so sternly that she dared not disobey me, for I was de termined that he should never hear from any lips but mine that at last his heart's desire was attained, for I loved him. At last, when he had been away ten days, I could bear it no longer, for I felt I should have braiu fever if I went "on in this way, so I determined to go '6n to Melton, where Mrs. Cartwright lived, and see my husband. I came to tfcs decision one n?glit, and went into Maud's room early in the morning to tell her my intention, I expected she would laugh at me, but I think she guessed something was wrong, for she seemed glad to hear it and helped me to pack a few things and set off in time t6 catch the morning train. It was three hours' journey. They seemed three years to me, for the near- 'ef I got to my husband the more im I riatient I was to see him. At last we gjot to Melton, a largish town. Of course, as I was not expected, there was no One to meet me, so I took a fly to Mrs.: Cartwright's house, where I arrived about three o'clock. I j I learned afterwards that Andrew was with his mother in the drawing room when I drove up, but thinking I was only a visitor, he escaped into another room, so I found my mother-in-law alone. By her side was some of my husband's socks which she was darning, socks which I had handed over to the servants to mend, and w hich I now longed to snatch away from his mother. His desk stood open, a letter to me which he was writing lying on it. ! The servant announced me as Mrs. Andrews, my voice failing as T gave my name so that Mrs. Cartwrignt held up her hands in astonishment when she saw who it was. ,' j i "My dear, Nelly ! Has anything hap pened? How ill you look ! What is it?" she exclaimed. ; "I want my husband," I gasped, sinking into a chair, for I thought I should have fallen. Without another word Mrs. Cartwright left the room ; I feel sure now she guessed all about it, and I can never thank her enough for forbearing to worry me with questions as to what I had come for. She came? back in a few moments with a glass of wine, which she made me drink off, saying she would send him to me at once if 1 took it.1 I com plied, and she went for him ; in another minute 1 heard his step outside the door, and then he canTe in. " "Nelly, my love my darling ! what is it?" he cried as I rushed into his outstretched arms, and hid my face on his breast, sobbing bitterly. For some moments I could not speak; at last I recovered myself enough to sob out: "Oh, Andrew, my love, my dear love I can you ever forgive me ? I came to seek you, and tell you I can't live with out you." I would have said more, but his kisses stopped my mouth, and when at length he let me go there were other tears upon my cheeks beside my own. ! That was the happiest hour of my life, in spite of my tears ; and before ray mother-in-law again joined us, which she discreetly avoided doing til dinner time, I had poured out all I had to tell into my husband's ears, and 1 had learned from him ; that he had. left me to try what effect his absence would have on me ; for , he had felt for some time that my pride was the great barrier he had to overcome to win: my love. - He had judged right. Ild ! was too generous to tell me how, much he had suffered from, my Indifference but I knew. It must have grieved him terribly. He is a different man now,? he looks so happy and I know he would not change places with any on earth. We went back to the rectqry, the next day, but we could not persuade Mrs.' Cart wrigh t to come with us ; she said we were best alone, and I think she was i J . Mow a Woman Bays Meat. There is so much of "human natur" in the following, that we doubt not not many of our fair readers will gent ly smile, if not "laugh right out," as they read it: ; ! ' K When a woman enters a butcher shop to select a piece of meat for ' din ner, she has her mind made up to take mutton roast. Therefore, when the butcher rubs his hands, and asks what she will have, she promptly replies : "I'll take some that mut " ; She stops there. Her eye has caught sight of ham, and she suddenly decides to take ham. "Best ham I ever saw, madam ; how much?" "Well, you may give me three p Well, I don't know either. My hus band was saying he'd like ; some sau sage." 'I.' .j "Plenty, madam. Now, then, how much will you have?" "It's pork sausage, is it?" "Yes, ma'am." ; i "Well, I suppose a pound would be enough for our small family ; but but " ! "Shall I weigh a pound, madam?" "I was wondering if a veal pot-pie wouldn't suit him better," j she an swered. "You have veal, I suppose?"; "O, yes, madam; here's a splendid bit of veal, as good a piece as I ever saw. "Yes, that does look like veal," she says, lifting it up. ; "And you'll take it?" f "Let's see," she muses. ; ''Y no, I guess not. I'd better take pork chops. ' "Nice chops how much?" he asks. "Owe of those slices will weigh a pound, I suppose?" "About a pound, madam." "And it was a young hog?"" "Quite youngish, madam " i "And you cut the rind off?" "Yes, madam." j j j . "Well." she says, heaving a deep sigh, "I guess you may give me some beefsteak some that's j nice,; and be sure and cut all the bone out !" And she's onlv been half an hour coming to the point. The Family Hammer.; No well regulated family pretends to do without a hammer. And yet there is nothing goes to make up an equip ment of a domestic establishment that causes one-half as much; agony and pro fanity as a hammer. It is always au old hammer, with a handle that is inclined to sliver, and always j bound to slip. The face is as round as a full moon and as smooth as glass. When it glides off a nail and mashes a finger, we unhesi tatingly deposit It in the back yard, and observe that we will never use it again But the blood has hardly dried on the rag before we are in search of that same hammer again, and ready to j make an other trisl. The result rarely varies, but we never profit by It. The awful weapon goes on knocking off our nails, and mashing whole joints and Blipping off the handle to the confusion of man tel ornaments, and breaking; the com mandments. Yet we !put- up with it, and put the handle on again, and lay it away where it won't get lost and do tip our smarting and mutilated fingers; and, after all, if the outrageous thing I should disappear, we kick up a ternoie hullabaloo until it is found again. Talk about the tyranlzing influence of a bad habit I It is not to be compared to the family hammer, h ; , . Our Property; Mr. Snillman had married a second wife. One day Mr. S. remarked : , j "I intend, Mrs. Spillman, to enlargd my diary." . . ri i ,.. "You mean our dairy, my dear," plied Mrs. Spillman. f f reH '"So." auoth Mr. Soillman, "I inH - a tend to enlarge my dairy." ; "Say our dairy, Mr. Spillman." "No, my dairy." i; . f'Say our dairy, say our " screamed she, seizing the poker. i "My dairy ! My dairy!" yelled the husband. " : j j "Our dairy ! Our dairy !" screechec the wife, emphasizing each! word byj t. blow on the back of the cringing hus band. ' - j. .. . Mr. Spillman retreated f under th bed. In passing under the bed clothe: his hat was brushed off. He. remained under cover several minutes, waiting for a lull In the storm. At last hi wife saw him thrusting his head out at the foot of the bed, much like a turtle from its shell..-4 -7 ' ; -" !' ; 1 '"M . "What are vou looking Tor?" said the lady.'.- ' ! '1 f'l "I am looking for our hat, my dear, said he. Aquariums. j ! ; f The first Step taken to establish aiv , . i aquarium ' was mader br the British Zoological Society which set up a few tanks and made a small collection of fresh water nsn, though the collection never wen very far. Then the Parlsi- 1 ans started a larger aquarium in the Bols de Bolonge, and a marine one was Instituted at Arcachon during tbe jperiod of the Maratime Exhibition. The major part of this, however, was devoted to shell fish. Boulogne followed suit as did Havre. None of these aquaria however are not worth more than a pass ing notice. J Concarneau also attracted attention at this time, but these were rati er vivers than aquaria, being large fjqnire basins Into which the tide flowed and where large turbot, crazy fish, Ac.,. fec. were kept alive. . Then Hamburg made its mark under the management of Mr. W. A. Lloyd, who managed to render it Very successful. Then fol lowed Berlin. Next the Brighton fqua rium was projected, nd the Crystal Palace constructed one under the man agement of Mr. Lloyd and the people of Hastings determined to follow the ex ample. Southport caught the Infection, and! carried out a very fine project, In cluding; winter gardens, concert rooms andj ad aquarium. Next came Man Chester under the able supervision of Mr Saville Kent. Then Naples and several; others ou the continent were caljed Into being; and the Westminster Palace, under the able managememcnt of Mr. Kobertson, included under thf title of aquarium not only an aquarium but theatrcal8, acrobatics, conjurations and mighty magic, for the exhibition of which Mrl Robertson could certainly haije run the risk of being roasted by burj intelligent forefathers. Rothesay foil owed, but this is a small concern, though! it attracts large crowds of ex cursionists and perhaps pays better cliyidend than any of them. The ex pense Was! small ? and continues to be kept small ; no money which can b made available for dividends being jwastedi. Next, Scarborough made & Start, and the great Yorksh're water ing place erected a very handsome aquarium, but somehow they do iot. seem to get on with it satisfactorily and have contrived to fall out with the town authorities. Birmingham Is thu latjst projector of an aquarium, but that is still in embryo. None of them., ho ivever, can equal that at Brighton,; wl: ether as regards the great range ofi accommodation, the beauty and bril liancy :of the tanks or the great variety,, rarity and abundance of the specimen- of ilsh exhibited. There the student of. icnthyoloj?ical science may gather ob servations and facts in the natural his tory of fish both old and new and strange. The fish are made to feel the Ios of their liberty as slightly as pos sible, he conditions of their artificial abiding places being assimilated asr closely as possible to their natural onesr and the manner in which the most of thiem thrive shows that they do not in any way miss their liberty, while ihe erfect fre edom and ease with which thje spawning operations of many of (the fish are conducted season after season gives forcible evidence in the same di rection. Larger fish in many of the species may be seen in the Brighton Aquarium than are ever brought to market by fishermen, and the rapidity growt ars to hi made by some of them ap- be almost unexampled. For sea trout, after their first instance, journey to the sea, would, in a state of freed omJ be thought to have made a fairly gopd growth if they reached one and a half or two pounds within the next year. Sea trout have been taken Off the Brighton coast in their first mi gration, and, being placed in the tanks of the Aquarium, have grown up to five and six pounds weight within. the twelvemonth, thus throwing a positive light jupon the capacity of growth in. the Salmonldaj upon which we were previously doubtful and uncertain. Excellent Interest Rule. Finding the Interest on any princi pal for any number of days. The an swer in each case being cents, separate tiie two right hand figures of the an swerlto express it in dollars and cents, ij'our perj cent. Multiply the principal by the number of days to run ; separate right hand figure from product and di yidejbyjjo. Five per cent. Multiply by number of days and divide by 72. Six per cent. Multiply by number of days and divide by 43. Eight percent. -r-M ultiply by number of days and di vide by 45. Nine per cent. Multiply by number of days ; separate right hand figure, and divide by 0. Ten per cent. 4-Multiply by number of days and di jide by 30. Twelve per cent. Multi ply by dumber of day s ; separate right hant figure and divide by 3. Fifteen eroentMultiply number of days and divide by;24f Eighteen per cent. Mul tiply byh number of days ; separate right hand figure and divide by 2. Twenty peV cent. Multiply by number of days inddlvhlAhv 8: -Twenty-four per cent. IlArnltff.lv hr number of davs and Ui- Videi by hi a. . 9 7 J
The Albemarle Enquirer (Murfreesboro, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
Oct. 10, 1878, edition 1
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